Kinds of Honey

We had to walk today. You can’t not walk on a day at the end of November when the sun is making everything warm a little, and the air is the right sort of cool that makes a vest rather than a jacket do just fine.

So out we went, the minute I got home from the horse barn – me, my dog, and a backpack containing a bottle of juice, a chicken salad sandwich, a pear, and a tennis ball.

Though today was perfectly splendid, there must have been a fair drop in temperature during the night, because patches of water in shallow spots and near the shoreline were coated in ice.

But never mind how cold the water might still be. It won’t bother this girl any.

Here is the picnic spot where I thought I’d sit to eat:

But I should have known – I know myself well enough – after 30 seconds on the bench I felt rather inclined to be out of the way of passers-by, and closer to the nature I’d come to enjoy. So I settled against the trunk of a small tree instead.

Much better.

We saw other hikers. We greeted other dogs. We soaked in the sun and the blue, blue, blue.