At the end of every day, right before the last of the light fades from the sky, I take Frankie out for an evening stroll. Provided the weather is not against us. Frankie is not fond of the rain. In the late summer and early autumn, it is still warm here in the South, even as the days grow shorter.
Frankie looks forward to sniffing every blade of grass, marking every tree or sign post she comes to, barking at any squirrel, and greeting every dog and person she encounters with a full pug smile. This is a great way to end the day.
Most walks, while flights of fancy for my pug, are the same routine to me. I hope there won’t be too many people or dogs. Frankie forgets that she has business to attend to when there is someone to say hello too. I pray there won’t be rain. It makes for a long night if Frankie can’t take care of her business.
It was a twilight that we walked one night after moving into a city flat. There is a lot of bustle around us, cars passing, tall buildings, lots of shops and restaurants and a sports arena.
There is a lovely garden in front of our complex where we walk each evening. The property is lined with tall trees that separate us from the office park next door.
Nature feels controlled and industrialized here. Until a deer appeared. The big buck jumped out into the garden, turning a routine evening to wonder. It stopped and stared at me and my pug for only a moment.
Frankie did not even bark. It was so alien to her she could not decide what to do. She froze and then the majestic animal leaped away, over the shrubs between us and the next property bounding toward the river.
My mind wiped out the city around me and saw the buck in its natural habitat, a clear view from us to the river as it would have been had the city not been there. My dreams were odd that night. Frankie slept as she always does, soundly but for a few bouts of snoring, the magic of twilight gone. For the moment.