Ready for the Smoke to End

Willow Creek RanchI am so ready for this smoke to end. I know, whine, whine, whine, and I am certain that many others wish it so far more than I do. I pray that the fire is controlled soon for all those folks who have their lives torn up by the disaster.

I want to be able to get outside more. With the smoke, my eyes burn and my lungs complain. My long-forgotten asthma reminds me that it is still there, waiting for the right opportunity to restrict my breath and make me uncomfortable. I want to be able to get the Girl out and go find a few geocaches or just spend time walking in the cool morning and evening air.

Winter comes. I can already feel the hints of change in the morning and evening. It’s not cold and won’t be for a couple-three months yet. But I can feel the change coming. I think the big heat is now past and we’re moving toward the cooler days of fall.

I want to be outside with camera and dog. She loves to go exploring — so do I. Last night I spent some time on the geocaching map, exploring some of the areas that are within an easy day’s reach but are far enough afield that I can get away from the daily norm. Going out to find geocaches takes me to places that make interesting photographs. It is a combination of things I’ve come to really enjoy — camera, dog, and geocaching away from town.

I’m ready for another weekend away camping somewhere. The Girl learned that the “flat house” is home too. One evening on our road trip she walked over to the flat house, went in the open, waiting door, and returned to me, looking at me. She turned, went back into the flat house, circled on her quilt, laid down on it, then came back out and looked at me. A third time she went into the flat house, settled on her quilt, and then watched me with those huge brown eyes.

I knew what she was telling me. Didn’t I write that our communication is all non-verbal but as real as if speaking to another person? She talks to me with the language she has at her command. I’m learning to understand that language and it is as effective as if she spoke words.

She was telling me “It’s time for bed. It’s dark. It’s cool. Come to the flat house and curl up on your mat. I’m ready to sleep.” Then she waited patiently for me to finish my supper, say goodnight to my kids, and then bunk in. She watched me with her big brown eyes, not moving from her mat, as I finished my evening routine.

Then I crawled into the flat house, closed the door, and curled up on my mat, put my hand on her side, and we went to sleep.

She usually knows what I need better than I do. She knows when it’s time to play, time to eat, time to walk, and time to sleep. She often tells me about these things if I listen. She’s usually right, as well.

I’m so ready for the smoke to be gone. I hate being forcibly cooped up in the house or closed car. I want to be outside enjoying the air and movement.