Towl Park Journal Day 61, February 10, 2017

Towl Park Jpurnal Day 61, February 10, 2017

Off to the park to write. It's a sloppy mess as I knew it would be. Don't care. It's 56 degrees and the snow is melting fast. Fine by me.

 

I pull into the parking lot. There is another car just behind me. Only one other vehicle parked, so I pull up next to it. The car behind me seems confused, parks a few lanes away. I look over at the man in the truck next to me. He is dark haired, seated in the driver's seat and glaring at me. I glance over at the person in the car a few spaces down. I can't tell if it's a man or a woman but notice that he/she dials their phone. I glance again at the dark haired man. He picks up his phone and begins talking.

 

I have the strangest feeling that they're speaking to each other. Don't ask me why. It's a gut thing. This feeling intensifies when they both put their phones down at the same time and fire up their vehicle engines and leave.

 

Could I have just messed up a drug deal? It truly feels like that. I spend a few moments speculating and when, after ten minutes, they don't return, I get my chair out to sit by the water.

 

I am soon distracted by a couple with their three huge dogs. Two are black, the other golden. I can't tell what breed they are, just very large. The man and the woman spend several minutes throwing balls for their unleashed dogs to chase. The dogs are having a rollicking good time. When they meander closer, I ask the couple what kind of dogs they are. The man answers.

 

"They're all three big mutts," he says. "All three are brothers from the same bitch."

 

"Well, they sure seem happy," I say, pointing to their wildly wagging tails.

 

"Yeah, but hey, they're dogs," the man says. "They get fed and taken for walks every day and then they lay around lollygagging. What do they have to gripe about?"

 

I smile, agreeing. The woman volunteers that all three sleep together in their bed, too.

 

"We have a king sized bed, luckily," she says.

 

I look at the dogs. I can't imagine being comfortable sleeping with three huge dogs, but I wisely say nothing. I've learned that dog owners, in general, see their dogs as part of their family.

 

But still. That's a lot of dog in one bed.

 

Neither the man nor the woman are wearing coats. I stop to feel thankful. No coats in early February. This is incredible.

 

I sit in my chair, close my eyes and bask in the sunshine. At my last medical check-up, I discovered that I am very low on Vitamin D. This is not uncommon for women on the prairie in wintertime. I pretend that the sun rays are pumping big doses of Vitamin D into me. The top of my head feels warm and when I reach up to feel it, I am surprised to feel heat on my hair at the top of my head. This is such a gift. I know that there will come a day come July when I am sick to death of the sun's punishing rays. I will try to remember to think back on this beautiful day.

 

Tomorrow night is a full moon. I've always been half crazy in love with the moon. Even as a child, I felt it was calling me. A beckoning. Now, as an adult, on decent nights, I sit outside and share the contents of my day with a full moon. February's full moon is called the snow moon. This year, there won't be any of the white stuff to greet it. As I said, fine with me. The moon is a good listener, nevertheless. The sun doesn't listen well. It is too busy beaming, spilling, and grandly throwing rays around. But, the moon. The soft, quiet moon always listens.

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