Hail on Fur

Hail on Fur

We stride out to take our daily walk. Two humans, two dogs; one in a pram, the other on four legs. We navigate a careful two metres around other pedestrians. I smile, say “morning”, try not to appear rude at this shunning. Spring and winter yoyo from day to day, sometimes from hour to hour. The wind buffets the crows as they circle above me. A sharp chill this morning brings a sudden rattling shower of hail. Gigi endures me taking a photo of the small white meteors of ice on her back. They land on her black fur, chime with the increasing strands of grey. I continue to observe the daily miracles of weather, nature and season, despite the topsy-turvy world we now inhabit.

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