Circling wind
From where I lay, the sound of light rain on the dome of our tent was relaxing. For the dog, not so much. His new position, between me and the door of the tent belied trepidation over the new sound. Only after being pushed out into a damper world did he understand the wisdom of waiting for the weather to pass.
Which it did. We still opted for a real breakfast, complete with “celebrity service” from a visiting cousin. Real eggs and bacon; an upgrade from my survival camper regime.
With that, the dog and I went back to killing time in the shadow of our academic companion. Could it be that the days seem shorter, already? The usual rounds of the town, and consultations of the world via free wifi demarcated the rest of the morning, along with the afternoon.
We did take one short trip to the “field of dreams”. Still no delivery of my culvert, but we checked out the situation on the inland side of my tree barrier. Seems solid enough; a professional “takedown” seems like the preferred strategy.
We joined my cousin and some other big city residents around the campfire after dark. The wind never did decide on a direction, so we learned to live like people on a polluted planet. No moon and heavy clouds made any travel from tent to facilities into a challenge.
Ditto for dog recovery… He wanted to be outside, and then he wanted to be inside. I found him, tangled up in his lead near the picnic table by listening for the bell tone of a kicked over water bowl. Very dark night.
