The Path Opens Up Before Me, As If Waiting all Day

September 19, 2010.  Sunday.

Situation:  Last night I had a dream, which I only recount here because the dream was about remembering something that I had forgotten to put in this journal.  The last thing that occurred in the dream was me thinking “I have to put this in the journal.”  Upon awakening, though, whatever it was I was remembering, although it seemed strikingly clear in the dream, suddenly became vague and nonsensical, and oddly enough it had little, if anything, to do with taking Mway for a walk.  It had something to do with overhead light fixtures breaking and insects crawling out of the ceiling, a series of mishaps that occurred to me and some other people, so coincidentally that they seemed like they couldn’t have happened by accident.  The only connection to taking Mway for a walk, I can see, was that in the dream I kept thinking “it was the sepal.  I have to remember that.  It was the sepal.”  Work all day today.  When I leave work, it’s suddenly raining very hard, and I think to myself, “Good. I won’t have to take Mway for a walk when I get home.”  But when I get to L_______, the windshield clears up, the road is dry, there are gray clouds in the sky but bright spots in the horizon.  As I’m pulling into the driveway, the walnut trees are shedding leaves.  When I get out of the car, it’s windy and seems dark, dusk is descending, the sky still gray, but it’s still not raining, and it’s still light enough to go for a quick walk.  When I get in the house, Moi has painted the kitchen cupboards an orange-brown.  The paint smells: the backdrop to nearly a quarter century of eating has disappeared.  Moi tells me she took Mway for a ride in the car today.  “She didn’t like it at first, thought she was going to the vet, but she calmed down after a while.  I think she could get used to it,” she says.  I ask Moi if she thinks there’s a storm coming.  She checks the radar on the computer, and tells me the weather maps are clear at least for the next half hour.  It’s 6:30.

State of the Path:  After I change quickly into my walking clothes, I find the birch branch in the music room, where I thought I’d seen it this morning, and I grab my walking stick from its resting spot on the side of the house.  The chickens have already gone into their coop (they retire now about 6 o’clock).  The sky is filled with gray clouds with peepholes of light and patches of light in the distance.  I don’t see any walnut leaves falling, and I realize it’s suddenly not windy.  On the far ridge, I see yellow trees, which I think must be walnut trees.  As I start down the path from the walled garden, it seems that the path opens up quietly before me, as if it’s been waiting for me all day.  Where I clipped the weeds yesterday, there’s no new line of weeds sagging down in their place; there’s a feeling of suspense and urgency, as if the sun and clouds are just going to hold their place for a while until I finish my walk.  Mway doesn’t wander off anywhere; she keeps step behind me, and I can hear her steady panting.  The cicadas are droning, a few crickets chirping.  Down by the creek, the wind picks up for a moment and blows a few black walnut leaves in my face, but then suddenly it dies down again.  Along the way I see all the wildflowers I’ve been seeing, but I’m seeing them now as the light is disappearing, and their colors are not as bright as in the middle of day.  The New York or New England asters have spread out even more than they were yesterday, and I come to grips with the fact that I’ve been seeing yet another new wildflower, which I haven’t mentioned before, but which I think is an altogether new blooming of fleabane.  As I walk along, I’m amazed at how much new fleabane is blooming, and when I walk along the ridge around bug land I suddenly see them blooming all over the place, but with evening approaching, I see them vaguely, as if I’m looking at them through murky water.

State of the Creek:  The puddles lie contentedly.  If it rains, they’ll fill up; if not, they’ll just sit there another night.

The Fetch:  Somewhere or other, Mway passes me (perhaps it was in bug land), and she reaches the clearing before me.  When I get there, I’m amazed that’s it’s not yet raining and that it’s still quite light out.  I throw the stick once from the bare spot, then I shuffle over quickly to the low goldenrod, and when Mway brings the stick back, drops it at my feet, and starts barking loudly for me to throw it again, I wince and just start throwing the stick to get it over with as quickly as possible.