The Narrows of the Harpeth

The park was gorgeous this morning, unbelievable. And when we got home, I didn't feel like sitting around here all day actually doing work, though I still have stuff to catch up on from when I was sick. So, after an early lunch, I put the dog back in the car and we headed west on 70. There's something about rural Tennessee that makes me glad to be alive. I don't know if it's the trees all speckled in golds or the red flashes of the sumac along the side of the road or the rocky outcroppings along the curves. But I love it. Mrs. Wigglebottom and I spent an hour standing in the middle of the Harpeth river. I was watching the sun sparkle on the water as it came towards us from under the bridge and then watching the kids having tractor races up on the bluff. I was standing on a dry rocky part of the river bed. The dog, however, was neck deep in the water, splashing and yelping and shaking her head. She loves to spread her paws out as wide as they will go and then splash at the water and then bite the splashes. It seems like one of her favorite things. After a long time, we got back in the car and put the windows down. I put my arm out, she stuck her head out, and we listened to Old Crow Medicine Show and thought about nothing in particular, except whether I'd be happier if I were a semi-truck driver and if I can get down to see the recalcitrant brother, who lately I've been really missing. Well, that's what I thought about. Obviously, I don't know what the dog was thinking, though, I suspect she was thinking about the good feeling of cool wind and warm sun on your face.