It dawned on me yesterday that I have spent far too much time working and not enough time playing. This as I was sitting down on the beach watching the waves and combing some of the knots out of the Cowboy’s curly fur while Miss Sadie rolled in the sand. You should not feel too sorry for my poor overworked self.
So we spent a little time chasing stones and wading and then we came home and had excellent treats, as is proper. I have been fattening on nectarines and peaches and raspberries, and we are just now heading into apple season. By the time the snow flies I will not be able to fit into my YakTrax. It is time, then, to Take Measures. More walking, less brooding over antique documents.
August is burnished gold. Time comes at us on a slant, illuminating our lives as late afternoon sun puddles in hidden places. We notice things we would never see at noon—and are blinded to what was obvious at dawn. This, I think, is why it is important to have friends who are looking at the world from different perspectives. We can help each other be a little less foolish.
Yoda Cowboy and Obi-Wan Kesadie are of the opinion that it will be a good autumn, particularly if I mean it about more walking. Of course, they think each new day is bound to be a good one unless it proves otherwise. They do not trouble themselves overmuch about things beyond their control. I expect they are right.
Torch Lake Views 
Carsten
August 29, 2010
Thanks for one more poetic post Gerry.
Or friends can help you beeing a little more foolish…..
Gerry
August 29, 2010
Maybe I can even bounce on water!
Carsten
August 30, 2010
Sure you can. Just add plenty of “Jell-O” first.
P.j. grath
August 29, 2010
Second try leaving comment (no comment about that!): I loved the pictures today and the thoughts, also. You gave me such a big smile it kept breaking out in a laugh. Trust your furry gurus. I’m with them. Beautiful autumn ahead.
Gerry
August 29, 2010
I’m thinking The Furry Guru sounds like a really great place to hang out. Free internet, good coffee, excellent treats . . .
Anna
August 30, 2010
I love this what you wrote: “Time comes at us on a slant, illuminating our lives as late afternoon sun puddles in hidden places. We notice things we would never see at noon—and are blinded to what was obvious at dawn.”
Yes, indeed. I really like the capture of the dogs (I actually mis-wrote ‘dogs’ at first and wrote ‘gods’… smile…) in the last paragraph.
Gerry
August 30, 2010
Thank you Anna. Yoda Cowboy and Obi-Wan Kesadie are not at all surprised at the confusion.
Karma
August 30, 2010
The pooches are very wise.
I took the pooches of this residence for a very long, more strenuous walk than usual yesterday (forgot my memory card for my camera darn it!) – I think it was very good for all of us!
Gerry
August 30, 2010
Sometimes it’s probably just as well to be cameraless, looking around with naked eyes. Frustrating, though. That’s always when we spot the best stuff, isn’t it? And then try to remember where it was so we can go back and capture it, and then we get all tangled up in the swamp, and then . . . oh. That would probably just be me.
Scott Thomas Photography
August 30, 2010
In many ways I envy your companions. To have such a life as to walk on lovely beaches with a loving person to look out for them as they look out for you.
Gerry
August 30, 2010
To be stuck in the house on a lovely day while The Human has eyes only for her !@#$ Civil War veterans . . . to be playing with Rogie on the beach and made to come inside before the tunnel to China is even properly begun . . . it’s a dog’s life.
Cindy Lou
August 30, 2010
It’s good to slow down and not work so hard – the Duo is scampering with joy, I’m sure!
kanniduba
August 31, 2010
“Of course, they think each new day is bound to be a good one unless it proves otherwise. They do not trouble themselves overmuch about things beyond their control. I expect they are right.”
Somehow or other, I think I lost my way…
Thank you for pointing me in the direction of the correct road. Now I will concentrate my efforts on finding it.
Gerry
August 31, 2010
Oh dear, sounds serious, but I am dubious about the value of any roadmaps you might acquire at the Writing Studio and Bait Shop. Except, of course, for the Visitors Guide to Torch Lake Township, which features excellent treats and quite good directions to how to find them. I digress.
I find that it’s easy to be philosophical when I am not bent out of shape. Miss Sadie is never bent out of shape. The Cowboy, on the other hand, treed a raccoon last night and was completely beside himself, which is the very definition of bent out of shape, I think. In this case, he believed the raccoon was within his control, even though it was thirty feet above him in the tree and showed no signs whatever of coming down, thank goodness. The Cowboy was mistaken, of course, but go tell a spaniel that he’s wrong. Complete waste of breath. Another digression.