We can't go back, sweet girl

Sparkle walked me to what was the field tonight. I think it had been some time, and I do know each visit breaks my heart in different ways. This session left me feeling a distance to what once was. I suppose that's because there is less familiar to appreciate. Even my 'redefine your space' meditation brought me only inches closer to a feeling of security.

A larger pile of debris and building materials welcomed our entry into the grassy entrance. With further passage in, the old gate opening, which used to stand there on its own without surrounding fences, is now gone. The new street and stop signs were up, their vertical presence in the place of the old, tall trees.

We went across the dried and cracked soil spilled into the streets over the concrete curbs, and sat down in a spot looking back at the sunset. The tree I thought they were to remove stood there as a silhouette while a new resident of the development, actually a neighbor we know, rode her back by us for a few rounds of late day exercise.

I had held onto the comfort and quiet of the pasture for the handful of years Sparkle and I walked it together. Here I was tonight knowing it was really gone. How long does it take to say goodbye and how long can you hold it in your heart.

"We can't go back, sweet girl," I told her.

I wonder if in her dog ways she somehow remembers the green, too.

Earth force 2017

Both Sparkle and the thinning fog led me outside for a morning walk today. It was one of the times she knew where she wanted to go when heading straight down the street towards what was the field. It's a spot I'm surprised she returns to and at times won't budge until I okay going further in. Nearly nothing remains of Ford Pasture. Certainly no stretches of grass fields are to be seen, trees have been cleared minus about ten scattered throughout, and the old buildings and structures gone. Well, all except the silo pair. For a space that no longer contains her scent markings, it must attract her for other dog reasons.

I had both my cell and DSLR which is rare these days, but I wanted to stay open to seeing shots with both.  It felt good to be walking our walk with gear in hand, on our route, in our old rhythm.  Even though we're stepping into the absence of what we used to enjoy out there, the possibility of appreciating something new helps in redefining the space.


The new paved road stops a distance from the silos, and the mud from last night's rain didn't let us get closer. There was also soil run off on the pavement which had us slipping around a bit but not to the point of falling.  As I looked down more often, I saw more clearly the earth forms of wet soil created on the road. Reaching tree limb and root shapes told stories of the draining waters and soil forces. This is their nature to seek destination depending on the grade of the land and availability of open earth and grasses. The more concrete and pavement coverage, the less places water has to go. I like that some of that journey is told in these natural designs.

As we exited into Sweetbriar Road, we pass the old tree at the corner which still has a few arched branches. One of its large branches was lost during construction and clearing, and what remains reminds me of its original form. It stands over the section of the entry road work which holds sitting water, debris and leaves. When the wind blew shaking the limbs, water drops fell into the reflecting pool of textures.

Feeling pretty good and complete about the session, there was still one more thing to see. A small green vertical sprout growing at the end of a broken branch caught my eye. Either the branch is playing host to a plant which found its way via a seed or bird droppings, or it the tree is reminding us that it still has life and determination. Either way, I love the lesson in it about keeping your eyes and mind open in order to see both strength and fragility around you.


Thank you, Aina, field spirit, for the gifts shared and an extra little boost to begin 2017.

#fordpasture #aina