Monday, January 16, 2012

Bear Mountain - Sedona, Arizona

At home, in New York, She takes me hiking almost every day. We explore Bear Spring Mountain in Delaware County. She loves adventure and trees and smells and spying flowers where none should be able to grow. She gently touches the different trees, feeling their bark. BARK!  She doesn’t like when I bark!

We made it to the first white level

She decided today that we will explore three places, Bear Mountain, Doe Mountain and Palatki. Fine with me. Wag, wag, wag! I would stay outside all day with Her. Hiking and walking and smelling. When She sees the marker for Bear Mountain, She misses New York.

She has a pack there, Her family.  She shakes Her head and refocuses Her attention. She is not going to think about them. So She thinks. She wants to memorize everything here so when She has grandchildren She can tell them about it. We start out by climbing up and down through empty creeks. It is December in Sedona and everything is very dry.  She is undecided between exploring the smooth, flat red rocks that make up the creek bed and climbing Bear Mountain.  It makes Her think of our mountain, at home. I wait, looking over my shoulder at Her.  She wants to do everything, and see everything and touch everything all at once.

It was very dry. We were very thirsty in the desert sun.
It was harder climbing down, than it was climbing up!

Her joy gets chopped right in half with “reasoning”.  Humans!  Always waiting to have fun til later. She is different though. It makes her pups, and her mate and her pack nervous. She is their leader, the alpha.  They all look to Her to keep them safe. And She is not in New York now, where they are.  I can feel her pack drawing Her back to them.  They are worried about Her being safe. I will keep Her safe.We climb up the rocks. Not walking - pulling, jumping and pushing. She takes one of Her shirts off and stuffs inside the bag where She carries my treats.  She is breathing hard. Her face is red. We climb most of the way to the top, when She sits down. She pulls out water and my bowl. She always lets me drink first. She looks around and leans back, lifting her face to the sun. That goofy smile again. 
Her joy is back, almost full.  Joy has a smell. It smells like …………

No comments:

Post a Comment