Stepping Out

The rain had stopped, but the wind had not yet come up when Copper and I left for a walk. He was restless, pulling on his leash. I was content to trot along behind him. The sky was gray, but I wore sunglasses.

Water was pooled in low places, and the trees were darkly drenched. The air was warmer than it ought to be. No longer a false spring; now it is the real thing.

I thought about how good it is to step out of the house, how the air can coddle us, can wipe our minds clean.

By the end of our walk, the sun had broken through the clouds.