Rich I

Ben and Maggie pull me over to the frog pond, which is full from all the June and July rain we have received this year.  The dogs are trying to figure out these strange creatures who squeek when they take long leaps into the pond.

Above and behind us the cottonwood leaves rustle.  Noone else is around, though its likely a fox or two are watching us from back in the willows and cattails.

This spot is one of peace.  It is a place I go so often for comfort, with no worries, to just walk with my dogs and enjoy whatever season we are in.

My prayer is to have the health to continue coming down here for years and years, where the green leaves blowing, the song of the goldfinch, the swaying cattails, and my two good dogs are enough to make me happy.

Rich is what I consider myself, in being near such things, and having the heart to appreciate them.