Woodsy Happiness

 

Poor Sherlock...

His good friend has a bad knee which means he didn't get to go for a Sunday walk in the woods. And we slept in Sunday morning so he didn't get to see the sunrise on the beach and run zoomies in the sand.

For several days I've wanted to take him for a walk in a forest just outside the village. The weather wasn't co-operative. 

This forest is seasonal. In the spring we can't because of black caterpillars and in autumn hunters make it unsafe. I like cold weather reducing the chance of a snake encounter. 

I did mention to Rick the possibility of boars that live in the nearby mountains. I'm sure all the bears are hibernating and stay a longer distance from the village than this forest.

Rain is predicted for a good part of this week, so we hooked him (the dog, not Rick) up and headed to the woods. 

Sherlock must have run four times the amount we walked. His goal of peeing on every tiny branch went unfulfilled, but those he missed he sniffed before taking off for another gallop. As tiny as he is (6.6K) he makes a lot of noise when he runs.

He got to say hello to another galloping creature, the beautiful white horse from the nearby Kentucky Ranch (isn't that a normal name for the South of France?). The ranch gives horseback rides to tourists in the summer.

The air was chilly, but not uncomfortable chilly.  It was cheek caressing nor cheek nibbling chilly. With our warm leggings, hat and gloves we were fine.

Sherlock ran ahead, Rick was in the middle and I was behind on the trail. Rick called me to come look.Canigou was out in all her glory. We joke that the mountain is his mistress even if the name is masculine.  As often as we see it, there is still that gasp-becaus-of-the-beauty moment when we spy it.

Then back home to start the writing week for Rick and I and Sherlock took to his mat for nap.

Life does not get much better than this.