verge (vʉrj)
the edge, brink, or margin (of something): also used figuratively the verge of the forest, on the verge of hysteria

to tend or incline (to or toward)
to be in the process of change or transition into something else; pass gradually (into) dawn verging into daylight

Friday, November 12, 2010

Boxed In

This is Tiger. 
Hear Tiger hiss.
Hiss, Tiger, hiss.

My ears are back too.  Ask anyone who has seen me lately.  The Verge is a great place for me to hang out but I have managed to box myself in a bit, causing me a small internal hissy-fit over my writing and the sound of my own niggling thoughts.  I have tried to keep to a certain format--discipline is a good thing--and I've tried to describe my Vergy experiences through my walks and works with dogs and cats and chickens and rabbits and their humans.  But this box could use a good airing out right about now.  You've been there too.  You look at your favorite room and suddenly think yuck, ugh, boring! so you decide to rearrange all the furniture and though nothing is new, it all feels refreshingly different.  There most likely won't be any obvious changes--this is mostly an inside job--but I am going to veer off just a bit and see what happens.  The dogs will still be with me of course, and if we get too lost in the woods, they'll lead me back to where we started.

So for today....It's a stunning day out there.  Cold, crisp, bright, still.  In the absence of leaves, the birch trees are now marching forth, preparing for center stage.  I love how they fade forward to winter like this, these brave ethereal souls. Tiger has to stay inside, but I don't.  Millie, Boo, Artemis and Biscuit await their turns in the sun.  Decked in hunter orange, we're heading out to the woods to see what we find outside this box.  We'll also blow the stink off while we're out there.  Mine.   

1 comment:

  1. Glad to hear Artemis and Biscuit are still with us. XOXO