Wanting to start the new year off with a clean slate of sorts, we decided that yesterday would be the day to scatter Zephyr’s ashes. She loved hiking with me more than anything else, and I always knew that when she died, I’d take her for one last hike. So off we went to a trail along a nearby river that we’ve hiked many times.
Yesterday’s weather was beautiful, sunny with a slight breeze, probably upper 70s. We walked through the cedar forest until we came to a place where the trail takes a westward bend on a bluff overlooking the river. That’s where we left her. It’s a beautiful spot and a place where we often stop to rest.
Whenever I think of her, I think of summer hikes along narrow hill country streams where she used to bite the water before drinking, the way she strained the leash to chase after squirrels and rabbits, the way she used to constantly turn around to make sure I was still there on the other end of the leash. I miss all that, but I’m not sad, not anymore. In fact I’m smiling from ear-to-ear as I type this.
It’s never easy to lose them, but as someone once told me, it gives us the chance to make new friends such as Phoebe, whose middle name is Grace because she sort of became the saving grace of 2005 when we realized how badly Daphne needed another dog.
[saveagrey]
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
Beautiful. A Native American friend of mine once told me that we must have our own sacred places on this earth. Places where we can go and draw strength and wisdom from our spirit guides. It’s good that you have such a place.
Fred
Thanks. I couldn’t agree more.