Take that Joseph Conrad! If you're looking for horror-- look elsewhere.
After I shared my concerns about Henry and the very real possibility of his aging (despite all my ancient forest concoctions brewed with the gossamer strands curried gently from the coats of newborn unicorns and brewed under a full moon), y'all were just so generous with your sweet and pragmatic suggestions.
Thanks to your comments and emails, I am now on the hunt for a pool where he might get a more regular swim activity and also a doggy acupuncturist . . and as if that weren't enough, Henry was also the beneficiary of some complimentary long-distance reiki-- so let us just take a moment to say, the boy, he is loved.
This morning was rather gray and it wasn't clear to me if the heavens were going to drop another battery of rain on our heads as we plunged into the fields for a long meander, but the skies shifted and glimmers of sunlight appeared instead.
I came home all ready to tell you how fun it can be to snap photos amidst glinting grays, when I stopped to first have some coffee, read a bit more in Mr. H D T when wouldn't you know? On August 31, 1852 he writes,
It is worth the while to have had a cloudy, even a stormy, day for an excursion,
if only that you are out at the clearing up. The beauty of the landscape is the greater,
not only by reason of the contrast with its recent lowering aspect,
but because of the greater freshness and purity of the air and of vegetation,
and of the repressed and so recruited spirits of the beholder. (I to Myself)
damn, dude totally beat me to it-- I was so gonna type the exact same thing, but you know, more better.
Happily, happily we go along and then, oh no! Another thing that will really pop out at you on a silvery mist morning? Oh yes, the dreaded turning leaf.
Daisy, as ever, is unaware of anything but the present moment and the pleasure of the grass.
And Henry? Well that there is his happy face.