I was collecting seeds from my zinnias this week, cutting spent heads, tossing them into a paper bag to dry. Slowly processing the loss of summer. Preparing for our long winter.
And then a bit of light, there at my feet, caught my eye.
The nasturium leaves, round and beautiful on their own even before the orange and yellow blossoms peek out, were glowing in the last of the day’s sun.
I stood still and thought how much I wanted to hold onto this moment, this bit of sunlight, these bright colors. How I wanted time to slow down even as, for me, it’s moving faster and faster.
I stood there watching the light on the leaves and blossoms for a few moments and then I did what every photographer does. I ran to the house for a camera.
And that’s why I take so many photographs. It’s to slow time, to help remember the thoughts and feelings of a specific moment. So that later on, when winter is getting old and we haven’t seen the sun in days, I can look at this image and remember the heat on my shoulders and the warmth in my soul.
When I see the first junco my heart drops but it also fills. Which seems a thought at odds with itself, doesn’t it?
Dark eyed juncos are only here for the winter months. And they are the first harbingers of winter, so my heart drops. But they are also adorable little round birds, and they will hop around under the feeders all winter, delighting us with their antics. So my heart fills that they’ve chosen my yard again.
No matter that the red winged blackbirds, the sign of spring and summer, are still here eating me out of house and black oiler seed before their trips south. No matter that we had temps approaching 75 degrees F yesterday (23.33 C) and will most likely again today.
Winter is on the way. Proof, a junco arrived today. Time to get out the winter coats, find the snow shovel, and check the antifreeze in the cars.
Welcome Mr. (or Ms.) Junco. I’m glad to see you again, but did you have to arrive so early?
PS: The pictures aren’t in focus. I was a long way away, and this little one popped up on the driveway, almost blending in with the asphalt. Still, I can’t fool myself into thinking it’s a sparrow. Can you?
Mom gave me permission to write on her blog this time. She says she wasn’t even going to bring this up. And she doesn’t want to talk about it. So now it’s up to me.
You see mom and I have been working really, really hard on obedience. At first I tried my darndest to get her to be more obedient, but that wasn’t working, so I decided maybe I could get more treats if I tried to be more obedient myself.
A girl can grow intellectually even when she’s already full grown physically.
So anyway, mom and I have been practicing in my basement training room and out at a friend’s training barn. I like training a lot. When mom starts chopping up cheese I get all excited and run to the top of the basement stairs, ready to run down to my cheese training room as soon as mom turns the lights on down there.
Then mom and I went to a ‘fun’ run on Sunday, to see if what I am learning would translate to an obedience trial setting. Mom was pretty sure we’d do OK, maybe not perfect, but definitely OK.
Mom was wrong.
I didn’t like the noisy place with all the other dogs and when it was my turn I wanted to run somewhere safe, and I forgot how to heel and I certainly didn’t remember I was supposed to sit when mom stopped. Mom, for her part couldn’t read the signs right and was flustered with my inattention and tripped over her own feet.
And when it came to my recall, when I get to run to mom (I love running to mom) I decided it was safer if I just made myself as small as possible and sat very still. Very very still. On my behind. Not moving.
Even when mom moved closer and offered me cheese.
Mom says she was very discouraged and also worried about me because I was so scared and she felt bad for putting me into a scary situation.
But then!
The next day she took me to the groomer! What was she thinking. After that I got really mad at her and barked at her all the way home.
And then!
We went to my Rally class in my regular building last night and in between running rally courses mom took me to a back room and we heeled enthusiastically and I sat when she stopped and I did three different recalls almost perfectly.
So mom thinks I’m OK and not scared anymore. Which is good because the real obedience trial is this coming Saturday.
Mom says it’s very possible we will still NQ (Not qualify) but she says that’s OK as long as I’m not scared and get used to working in different places. She says this is not a sprint. She says it’s a marathon. I don’t even know what that means.
I’d like to remind mom that I’m still a puppy. (I’m going to milk that concept as long as possible!) And that I love her and daddy and I want to be a good girl. Sometimes I just need more time.
SO… please think about mom and me on Saturday afternoon!
PS: Pictures are stuff mom took of not me in my yard. Silly mom. I’m still the prettiest thing around.
Change Is Hard 