It was a humid night.  Nothing moved.  I thought a lot throughout the night, even after writing a blog about bees and bee keepers and bee books.  I just couldn’t sleep.  The sky was grey on Bridge Street this morning; the first day of rain since my arrival and I lacked the motivation to go out and collect one misty drizzle-filled photograph of a house on Bridge Street.

Subsequently, here are my words.  I dawned my hoodie and put socks on for the first day of my vacation…then the shoes…and loading Max into the van, headed for the Belleville off-leash area.

When we arrived, there were some other owners and their pooches, but it looked to me like I might have had an umbrella in order to fit in perfectly.  But, have I ever really been concerned with that?  A drizzle soon turned to a down-pour, but given the Ontario- air, it was still warm.

And suddenly I went to that experience of ‘memory’ and I returned to warm Ontario rains of my childhood.  While dog-owners raced to their cars, pulling disappointed dogs behind them, I began my second loop of the park.  (This is where the head leans back and the open-mouth turns to the sky…this is the moment when a person actually smiles in the rain.)  Max’s body extended into a streamlined figure bulleting about the park in a wild frenzy of squirrel-chasing and bounding through the trees.  We were both so happy that I just had to come here tonight to write it down…the happiness is written down here…a reference for me when I might forget.

I returned to Bridge Street where I hung out with my Mom and read  Sisters in Two Worlds.  I will finish this one off tonight.  I continue to feel amazed by women and their hands…the work they do, the lives they touch.

Being here on Bridge Street is a blessing.