Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family’s mixed Lab.
The aerobics class has been meeting nearly every morning in recent weeks in the storefront gym.
I have been tempted to poke my head in and suggest they do morning rambles outdoors instead, but decided that was none of my damm business.
Morning rambles are made more for those like me who trend toward the oddball more than the group dynamic. I would sooner stride off on my own with the meathead than join a group for rhythmic motion in unison to a dance beat.
I hear my own music.
Out a bit later than I expected. Dawn was slowly lighting yet another gray overcast morning.
On the far end of the extended ramble, I saw another field was being plowed up already. It has been an odd year.
I heard a belted kingfisher on the far corner of the north old clay pit, but I couldn’t see it. Storm did give the foxhole a good sniff.
But that was it for wildlife, I didn’t even hear or see any Canada geese, even on the fringes of the extended ramble.
Back on the edge of town, a black squirrel ran up a pole by the feed mill. A gray squirrel ran around the main street downtown. Ask me what a squirrel is doing downtown. Picking up scraps? Another gray squirrel ran around Village Hall.
We were late enough that the aerobics class was finished. People milled about, chatting and socializing.
Storm ran a gray squirrel up a bare red maple on the block before home. Stumpy, our neighborhood black squirrel named for his stumpy tail by our kids, loped across our neighbor’s lawn.
And that was the morning, squirrelly.