More about apples


Winter arrived in the meadow in which Charlie and I take our morning walks. Most of the leaves are down and the tall grass that Charlie loves to jump through, like a little furry gazelle, is gone. Underfoot all is crunchy with frost, topped off with a dusting of snow. Here and there, there are bushes with bright red berries and a few old apple trees are hanging on to their fruit as well. On some trees - one red apple. On others many. On all of them - the fruit hangs between the Tropic of Cancer and Capricorn. The windfall, the low hanging fruit and the tops are long gone. Left are the tenacious fruits coveted by many of the meadow's hungry creatures. And as they hang there, glistening in the morning sun I see something else as well. The druid's inspiration to decorate trees with bright red and yellow orbs.

To BRING OR NOT TO BRING BLING . . .


Charlie can be a real prima donna when given a choice. Charlie's pretty happy with the stuff we find along the way, but he's not immune to bling. There's a guy in one of the parks Charlie and I go to. He likes to buy his Setter the cheap and chearful balls, boomerangs and other weird toys that are available at the local Dollar Store. When Charlie sees them he drops what he's got and chases after the Setter's toy-de-jour. Worst of all - Charlie chews them up on no time while the Setter and his owner look on in disgust. I'll let you decide what the lesson here is. Maybe - Bling is bling, display it at your peril because you might just loose it - which is O.K. as long as you're not too attached to it. One Guru taught me that it's O.K. to desire the good things in life so long as you don't covet them and become attached to them. Kind of like now - those who sweat the losses in the stock market are worse off than those who accept their losses and move on.

 

 

APPLES


Every fall the apple trees along the Scarborough Bluffs give up their fruit to the local inhabitants - including deer, opossums, birds, field mice - and Charlie. While the summer is his time to hunt for tennis balls in the local tennis courts, the Fall refocuses Charlie's nose to a new 'ball' one that has all the appeal of a tennis ball - plus three others: they’re smaller, faster - and edible. While the first harvest of bitter apples is one to be chased and hunted for in the tall grass, the last sweet harvest is one to be eaten slowly and quietly lying in grass covered by cool morning dew.

 

 

IS IT THE ART, OR HEART, OF COMPASSION?


Charlie and I took a walk in the park this afternoon. On our way back I saw a woman, who was sitting with a friend, interrupt their conversation so she could call Charlie over for a visit. Oddly enough Charlie approached her reluctantly. That's rare. But once he was in reach the woman cuddled and fondled Charlie as though he was her long lost pet. She then told us that she had lost a dog much like Charlie a few years ago.

For the next half hour I stood back and watched her play with, and be healed a bit by, Charlie. When it was time to leave she held Charlie close to her one more time, wished him a long, healthy life and blessed him with her tears.

Today Charlie helped me learn that blessings surround us, but remain a mystery and at bay if we are not open to them.

 

 

Michelle + Charlie


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