Diary of a dog
On April 22, 2023
An invitation to meditation
We believe we take our dogs out to pee twice a day. Grave mistake: it’s the dogs who invite us twice a day to meditation. Daniel Pennac
Outside, it smells of spring. Nature awakens, greenery is tender, the air is fresh and the paths are muddy. I invite you to take advantage of this perfect weather for a walk.
It’s not warm, but the April sun makes the weather mild. In the forest of Vauve, the horses are out and make the paths almost marshy. But if you keep an eye out, you’ll notice some dry tracks that are much more enjoyable to walk on. Enjoy the texture of the last dead leaves under your feet.
Look up at the canopy: in the new, bright green leaves, you may find a red squirrel, a woodpecker, or, more discreetly, a jay with blue wings.
Close your eyes, listen carefully. The wind blows through the branches, filling the atmosphere with a soothing white noise. In the bushes, a hare whistles. You can hear shrews squeak and voles forage under the dead leaves on the roadside. The birds above you sing of spring. The dead leaves and branches cascade under the passage of an animal.
Be respectful, look upon these little lives with kindness and savor your own.
Gently stroke the tender leaves within your reach. Let your hand run over the bark of a tree, appreciate its roughness. Observe the moss, try to guess its texture before touching it. Have you guessed right?
Inhale the air. Feel the humidity, the sap, the life that returns. Sniff the flowers of a young tree. Enjoy the buttercups, the color they bring, their sweet scent. Can you smell the lily of the valley?
A dog’s life is a life of sensations. Be a pooch.
Woof.