The Good

Last Friday was a beautiful day. No rain, no hail, no ice, no heavy frost, no wind, no gray skies, no thunder, and no tornadoes. At sundown my husband and I took the dogs down to the River Walk for a run. I had not been down there in a month and everything was green; the grass, the weeds, the flowering plants, the stuff growing at the bottom of the river, and the trees. The river was running high because of all the rain we had earlier in the week and the ground was a little bit muddy but not enough to collect on the soles of my shoes.

As we walked I listened to the sounds around us. There was the watery clattering sound of fast moving liquid. The cooing, trilling, warbling, peeping, honking, whistling,squawking, cackling sounds of the birds hidden in the trees and bushes. By listening closely I could tell that we were surrounded by doves, red-wing blackbirds, turkeys, flickers, sparrows, and robins. A small flock of geese flew low over our heads honking continuously and loudly. My husband honked in reply and there was a pause of confusion on the part of the geese. They honked back twice, paused, and then resumed their continuous honking as the flew on. A few seconds after the geese left I heard the sound of an engine up over my left shoulder and looked up to see a small airplane banking slowly as it turned into the last leg of its approach to the airport. The plane would return every five minutes as the pilot practiced touch and go landings at the airport. The sound of the droning engine would fade in and then out as the aircraft repeatedly reappeared overhead and then departed.

Half way through the walk Duke raced by us and quickly disappeared into the underbrush. A few seconds later I heard the sound of something big snapping branches and twigs as it crashed its way into the river. Then the sound of splashing water as it made its way to the other bank. I could not see what was making the sound but since I had just stepped over freshly made deer prints I was pretty sure it was one or more mule deer searching for a place to spend the night. Duke startled more than deer that night. We could tell just were he was by what appeared before us. At one bend in the river two wood ducks protested loudly as they flew off the water and disappeared into the trees. A few minutes later the whole process was repeated as Duke disturbed a pair of Mallards. They flew down the river a bit and landed on the water again only to be rousted under protest again when Duke rediscovered them.

By the time we walked back to our truck the sun was way below the horizon and the shadows had disappeared into the coming darkness. The birds must have found their sleeping quarters for the night and the pilot must have practiced enough touch and goes for one day because the only sound now was the rumbling of the big rig trucks traveling on highway at the edge of town. A beautiful end to a beautiful day.