Friday, May 20, 2011

Across the Border, Northward

We stop just north of the border crossing in British Columbia. To breathe.

The days leading up to today compress in my mind into one big umbrella, with spokes leading to food, car, clothing, money, dogs, motorhome, family, friends. And so much more.

Nothing in our life went untouched in my umbrella. But we got everything done (packed the right clothes, got the right vitamins and medicines, packed the right food -- what is and is not allowed to cross the border, fixed the motorhome, stored the car, etc.). A whirlwind, but we closed that umbrella today, snapped it shut, and crossed the border.


I can breathe. And the dogs need to stretch.

So we stop at one of the first rest stops we see in British Columbia and walk. Well, we really hike. Up a hill, which is more like a grassy knoll or dike beside a meandering stream. The stream is deep, muddy, and moves slowly. The dogs enjoy sniffing around the edges. And we walk along the top, following a well-worn path. And breathe.
Then, something catches my eye.

Look. Up ahead. To the right. In the water, on the other side of the stream. There's a turtle moving pretty fast toward us in the water.

No. No. Wait. It's not a turtle. It's a dog.

There's a dog in the water, swimming toward us. Pretty fast. The sun glints off the side of his vey wet head.

Good heavens. It dived. And it's still under.

It's an otter. AN OTTER! And he's up again and he's swimming toward us.

My dogs ignore the otter, who's not ignoring them. He's popping up and down in the water alongside us as we walk. LOOK! There's another curious otter. AND another one.

THREE. THREE otters do the dog walk with us. They stay in (and under) the water and we stay on land.

And they stay underwater for long periods. Then they surface and breathe. Just breathe. Here at a rest stop in British Columbia.

The otters and I. We just breathe.

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