Morning Light

This morning I couldn't sleep (someone was snoring) so I was up and out for a walk, alone, before sunrise, in the cold dim morning.

Last night I took the Jack Russell for a walk around Salem without her sister, mostly because she is the portable one. In times of dog-walking trouble it is very difficult to carry a Bassett Hound around. It is like carrying a sack of potatoes, a squirming, barking, furry sack of potatoes...

So, as I'm sure y'all are aware, Salem is a cluster fuck right now - TONS of people ZERO parking - lots of street vendors selling food that fat tourists throw on the ground for doggies to nibble on when I'm not looking. We spent about an hour 'barccuming' the city before I carried her home. Some lady randomly produced a dog biscuit from her purse just for Mab; it was green. Ahh, Saturday night in October. There were busses, trolleys, rickshaws, horse-drawn carriages, bikes, motorcycles, double-wide strollers and a gabillion pedestrians. Searchlights traced the sky and strobes blinded me at each block. The soundtrack was sirens, the hiss of smoke machines, spooky music from every shop, crunchy leaves underfoot and people being rowdy and having a good time. Pande-frikkin-moneum, but intoxicating nonetheless.

This morning, however, was chilly and quiet - even the harbor was silent. I saw one person walking a scotty dog and one car delivering newspapers. The grass was crisp and frosty under my feet. The sun, as it rose, was pink and orange and warm. I could hear and see myself breathing. So that's what I did...breathe.

The city was mine, just for an hour, but what a glorious hour it was.