There are no thoughts of artistry this morning. There is no free time to take Lindsay for a run along the bluffs. I have an early morning meeting at my downtown office to learn a new software package, so I'm taking Lindsay for a brisk and brief run through the neighbourhood.
My pockets are full of bags for poop n scoop. I'll need them.
At the bluffs she ranges far ahead, criss-crossing the terrain, her rambling taking her three times my straight-line distance. She is a blur of motion.
On the leash, she is forever coming to a complete halt, arrested by irresistible smells, needing to mark her territory. I'm the one in motion. Pulling her forward against her will. She gives me a look that asks, whose walk is this anyway? But I have a train to catch and it runs on a schedule I have to keep.
Along the bluffs my thoughts range free. Here my thoughts are of work related issues, phone calls to make, e-mails to answer, clients to visit, problems to solve.
The wind has a bite to it this morning and a bitter taste, but the day will warm. The trees are almost barren of leaves and the world has a dull and deserted feel.
It isn't inspiring.
This isn't fun, this is a duty.
But that's life.
On the Road to Mount Saint Patrick
10 hours ago