Thursday, January 01, 2026

Time



Time stops for no one

The year closes like a gate behind me,
its rusted hinges shrieking the last of their weight.


Ahead, a path of frost begins to shimmer,
each step melting a small circle of dawn.


Hope timidly rises there,
partly lifting a burden I’d been carrying,
the sky grows brighter with each step towards the sunrise.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I realize that I cannot stay in the past and hover there. However I will also hold tight to each and every memory I possibly can. My heart demands it.


Charlie and I decided to brave the twisted sand/salt/slush/ and ice caked roads to go out to Duck Egg and blow off a week's worth of misery and illness.

Charlie knows the drill, he bounds away to look back at me as if to say "Ma, we have the whole place to ourselves." His eyes sparkle and he bounces as he runs. 
He runs up to the water crossing and leaps over it. 

[this is not supposed to be on the trail, but it seems the Springville creek had some help with water rerouting from some beavers]




The sky is gun metal grey, the winds are blowing on the ridge and all I hear is the water rushing under the footbridge ahead. Charlie waits on the bridge.

His joy is infectious.


The world drops away as the dog and I explore. He stuffs his head into clumps of grass and from the tail action, I can tell he is hunting vicious voles or mice.

His look tells me that IF he were not there to protect me, I'd be overrun by voles of the most frightening kind.

And this is how our quiet walk in the steep valley proceeds. My dog and protector saving me with every action he takes. [4 seconds]





He makes sure that every footbridge is safe for his lady. He surveys that area to make sure there are no giant Voles or Mice lying in wait.


This is his duty and he takes it seriously. 






We arrive at the ponds and marvel at the winter world of Duck Egg. We listen to the Springville creek roar behind us and rain begins to fall.

We've gone a mile on a rather flat trail and I motion that it is time to turn around. We hike back and I realize that I am not out of breath, and I feel good. The dry hack still shows up. But. But.

We are back.


When I get to the car and plop Charlie in his car seat he curls up his wet body on his blanket.

Before I pull out of the parking area, I realize that I've missed Charlie's birthday. My little champion is beginning his 8th year of exploration with me.

I'm grateful. 
Here is to more wonderous adventures with my finest sidekick.