The more things change

During the hiatus, I acquired a new job. This job has a much longer commute than the old one, which caused some adjustment to the daily routine. The dog's morning walk is now about an hour earlier than it had been, at least on workdays.

The early morning walks have been great in that we get fewer encounters with other people and their dogs. (As you may recall, our dog is convinced he must demonstrate his dominance to all other canines and his affection to all people.) Early morning also gave us more opportunities to spot the rabbits and foxes of the neighborhood - always a happy hunting expedition since I know I won't have to deal with the consequences of him catching one of them. We both found the new routine to our liking.

When we dropped out of Daylight Savings Time a few months ago, I found that the dog's morning walk would be complete well before the sun came up. I was surprised by how quickly I adapted to walking in minimal light. Fortunately our neighborhood is pretty quiet that early in the day, so my hearing augmented my limited sight to minimize traffic danger. I learned which slopes would be slippery and which wouldn't. I became familiar with every ululation of a large chunk of the park's
surface. Of course it was not such a big adjustment for the pup, as everything smells pretty much the same in the dark as it does in the light.

Today brought three harbingers of spring and, with them, the need for yet more adaptation. Today it was quite light already as we left the house for Dawn Patrol and, sure enough, someone else was out with a pair of Aussie Shepherds. As we detoured to avoid a confrontation, I saw the first crocuses of spring - now we (particularly the clawed one) have to be more cautious to stay on the sidewalk. On the way home I noticed spring's first woodpecker. No more crossing the street without looking amid such commotion!

As it is with the minutiae of the neighborhood, so it is with weightier matters. As soon as I adapt to one challenge, a new one - often a contrary one- rises Hydra-like to take its place.