First Landing State Park
“For a time… I am free.” — Wendell Berry
Every time I say something, my two dogs turn toward me, pretending they’re paying attention. When I stop talking, they face forward again or look left and right or sniff at the brush on the side of the trail.
I take a glance at the park map. “This is supposed to be Osprey or Fox Run. Then the next one on the right is going to be Kingfisher Trail. Or on the left? No, there’s supposed to be water on the left, swamp or a small pond.”
Suddenly the dogs pull on the leash, causing me to take a closer look to the left. “Good catch, boys, that’s new! A sandbar. I’ve been coming here for ages, never seen a sandbar hereabouts. Makes sense, though, after a hot summer with barely an inch of total rain, we’ve had a bad drought. The water level has not been this low probably ever.”
We walk onto the sandbar and I let them off the leash. The dogs run to the water and seem to take a swallow. I blow my whistle and they run back to me. “Boys, that’s brackish water, no good. If you’re thirsty I have fresh water for you.” I take out the canteen and the dog cup from the knapsack. The dogs show no interest. “Okay then, go enjoy. Ten minutes max, and then we begin the long march to the parking lot.”
Back in the house I do most of my cursing in Spanish, so I repeat it in Neruda’s language: “Solo diez minutos, ni un momentito mas.”
The dogs are smart — they know I mean business when the words are in Spanish — they stand in attention until I motion they can go.
Happiest sons of the bitches, they’re having the time of their lives if there’s no tomorrow, galloping up and down in the shallow.
I sit down in the sand. The day’s coming when there’s no tomorrow.
I let them frolic till sunset.
*******First published in The Virginian-Pilot on March 12, 2024.*******
