Poet, Playwright, Workshop Facilitator
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Welcome to daily nature photo and creative writing blog, #NewThisDay

Welcome to my daily nature blog

Writing from My Photo Stream ~ Kelly DuMar

 

#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

 Frosty Sumac

Frosty Sumac

The dogs have forgotten about the deer carcass, so we crossed the meadow without incident, then crossed the street to one of my favorite spots - the meadow across from the main State hospital that was once farmed and tended and part of the whole operation.

I rarely meet anyone, (a few dog walkers), in this meadow and it's one of my favorite places to take photos. There was a man ahead of the me on the trail, no dog with him, unusual, but he was holding a paper bag. Unleashed, Charlie got to him first and probably got closer to him than was comfortable for the man. He knelt on the trail and seemed to be picking things up and putting them in his wrinkled bag. I soon reached him, said hello, apologized for Charlie, asked if Charlie had caused him to spill something from his bag? No, he said. I called the dogs away, sensing his discomfort, and he went on picking things, invisible to me, up from the ground and putting them in his bag.

Then, the frosted sumac was in sight, so I climbed into the brush for pictures. The man approached, so the dogs trotted over and I had to climb out of the bushes to retrieve them. Charlie's enthusiasm still seemed to concern him.

Do you not like dogs? I asked. No. He said, which confused me, but, really, I think he was just timid about them. I took dog cookies out of my pocket and asked if he'd like to give them one and he said no, but I sensed he meant yes, so I showed him how to pinch the cookie in his fingers, tell them to sit, and then say, gently, gently. . . and he did a fine job, the dogs were obedient and pleased, and we all went cheerfully on our way.

 Golf Ball in the Meadow

Golf Ball in the Meadow

Leaving the meadow, the last picture I took was the golf ball someone had sent flying across the meadow which lodged itself in these branches just off the trail. My father was a passionate golf ball hunter; he grew up hunting them on the golf course in his home town to earn a little money. It was a pastime he enjoyed his whole life; he could find them anywhere. I know he would have been delighted for me to find this gift on my lovely walk for him today.

All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2017