This morning, light slid down over the hills under a peachy sky. Don and Barley and I
loaded up in the pickup and headed for the hunting land we share with another couple.
Don loves this land, and I do too. I love it because he does, and I love him. It's a place
he can get away from the hectic demands of his work and focus intensely on something
he enjoys. Don and his friend had just finished brush hogging the fields, and he wanted
me to see them. In the middle field, I climbed into a tree stand for an overview, while
Don and Barley checked out the pond. It was low, which was no surprise at the end of
this hot summer, but it didn't stop Barley from lowering himself into the mucky water.
He came out refreshed and frisky, and smelling quite a bit more to his liking than when
he went in.
They came for me then, high in the tree, and I was happy to have them close. And to my
delight, I believe it was mutual.
