Originally posted on Facebook September 30, 2021.
I saw the flash of fur first, then the Frisbee arcing through the air, then the man.
He was standing at the edge of the dooryard, arm raised still from throwing the Frisbee over the sizable lawn. His white hair made him stand out while his dark red flannel shirt made him fade into the crimson maple leaves on the tree behind him.
His dog leapt into the air, all four feet off the ground — Aussie shepherd, most likely, based on the size, coloring, and coat.
The road carried me off before I could see the rest but I have seen this scene enough to know that her jaws will snap on the Frisbee and she will carry it back to earth with her; she will barely touch the ground before she races back to him, legs moving so fast you only see a blur. He will take the Frisbee and send it soaring out again and she will fly like a bullet to snap it out of the air again.
The road wound north to the mountains. I know it is nearly straight north because in the morning and in the evening the sunlight slants through the trees on either side of the road, making a flickering ‘piano key’ set of shadows almost all the way home.
The trees are starting to turn and the air was cold today, so cold that for the first time since early May I kept my windows closed for the entire drive.
When I got home, I sat in the truck in the driveway for a few minutes, catching up on emails for work. Two of my crows flew into the yard and hopped around, pecking at the grass and whatever interesting bites they were finding there. They ignored me as I turned off the truck, rolled down the window, and leaned out to watch them, but as soon as I pulled out the camera and tried to take a picture, they flew up into a pine and scolded me.
It is nearly October. It is a good time to be here.
📷: Smalls Falls near Rangeley, September 29, 2021.