Prune, my rose

There are roses which grow on the side of the wall. At first as rich and red as an expensive wine, slowly fading with the sun. Prune sniffs around them indifferently, then goes to lie down in her favorite spot. Summer time. When Prune came to us seven years ago, summer was slowly ending, Fall on its way. How she used to run, wild and young and free, late summer sun dancing across her shiny fur. Now, the ground is dry and hard from the rainless weeks. No good for running, for me or for Prune. Instead, we walk. Mornings, barely 6am but the sun already up, in a ripe-peach colored sky. Sparrows flutter among the hay bales, rabbits hop across our path. The air already feels hot, full of the smells of summer. I look at Prune, and I think we agree we are lucky we can start the day like this.

Its another still, cloudless afternoon. I lie next to Prune. She’s on my yoga mat, but I don’t mind.  She’s completely at peace. Listening to the sounds of summer, feeling the light breeze. The sky, vast and uninterrupted, except for jet-trails, is reflected in her eyes. Those jet trails have always fascinated me. Something about their weightlessness, the way they seem to dance in a silver line, before disappearing into the endless blue. Some days, they remind me I could be up there, that there are places to go, no limits. But often, the moment is too perfect to be anywhere else. Simple, blissful, grateful. I wonder if she is thinking that too. Probably, because if there is one thing we can learn from our pets its that they live in the present. Summer, the days for living. She’s thinking that for sure.

The roses on the wall, the jets in the sky, birdsong all around. Prune and I, right here, right now.

This is an early tribute to Prune girl for her birthday. I love you Prune more than words can ever say xx

All photos my own 🙂