Capering Around

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By bounds and leaps, Cinder the dog, dragged me out in the morning for a walk. It was a beautiful morning, though. Smokey undertones covered the landscape in a eerily beautiful and golden glow. Today, her enthusiasm was tempered by my reluctant compliance (This happens every morning but it sounds more poetic this way, right?). The smoke surrounding the area, gave me pause in addition to my unwillingness because asthma, being what it is, does not tolerate less than perfect air quality. Never the less, I trotted after her, in as much as I could. You can see her in one of these pictures, she’s judging me; probably wondering why I make her stop so often. In another picture, she comes back to tell me, in no uncertain terms, pictures of a morning walk does not, in fact,  mean you are walking. She then pulled me to go chasing a rabbit that crossed our paths but I did manage to take a picture of today’s flower.

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Little Bank of Fog

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On a perfectly clear morning a small bank of fog quietly rolls its way up the hills.
It could be that the morning caught it sneaking out into places it shouldn’t be.
It could be that it is simply making a statement with a subtle sign of rebelliousness.
Not many noticed the delicate cloud lingering, as the morning sun forced it towards the sky.
Reluctantly, it retreats slowly;
Not too slow as to let the heat of the sun dissipate its essence into nothing.
Not too fast as to deliver a victory to the sun
As to concede that a summer morning is no place for a little bank of fog.

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By Margarita Morgan

September 22, 2014