Snow being melted away by rain leaves me wondering what I should be feeling on this planet. The soil hasn't thawed so it must follow gravity downhill to ditches, rivers and lakes.
The woodles don't care, excited to go for their walk as they know I'll go no matter what. The first two who sit always get the halter placed on them and they've figured out how to spell.
"W-A-L-K," is exactly what they want to hear. They're so smart they know two languages, woodle and mine :-) Their woodle wet pets. Jumping to the dance of the rain. I not only get to enjoy the damp spring air but also the new woodle fragrance of moist pleasure strutting down the road.
Everything that flows from us is an emotion. I see their dripping braids and smile, breathing deeply through my nostrils, through my lungs, to my stomach, then exhale fully. Ah, life. To keep it flowing positively must be always forefront in action.
The woodles jerk to the left, tightening to be by my side. I look in the direction they're peering. Hmm, they smell and I see a dead crane on the side of the road. Ah, life. I wonder what it's emotion was at its demise? I know it had an emotion. And what was the emotion of that that killed it for lunch?
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