The Tilly Report

The difference three months makes: Tilly in autumn and winter.

Book lust...

I've just discovered the Animal Series published by Reaktion Books (University of Chicago Press), consisting of 34 volumes to date. Each book is dedicated to a member of the animal, bird, fish, or insect kingdom (from bears and swans to bees and oysters), viewed through the lens of myth and folklore as well as art, history, and science. Yum. Now I want them all....

Words to live by....

Amen.

New Year's Day

It's become a tradition in my village to gather for a community walk on Christmas Day and New Year's Day -- which is a lovely way to visit with friends and neighbors, to enjoy the Devon countryside, and, this year, to give our puppy a good romp with canine friends of all shapes and sizes. I didn't have my camera on the Christmas walk, but I remembered to snag it for our New Year's ramble -- on a bright, clear day so cold that the muddy paths had hardened into ice. We followed a trail up the steep hill behind my house -- dogs and kids in the lead, the rest of us straggling behind. The reward for the climb is the view you see above, looking out over the houses of our little Devon village to the open moor on the far horizon. (Click on the picture for a larger version. It may take a few moments to focus.)

Tilly was a bit over-excited at first, bounding among the older dogs like a little black kangaroo; but as our human-and-canine pack moved on, the months of training she's had from Howard really showed. She ran and played but never strayed too far, and came to heel promptly whenever Howard whistled.  She remembered her "sit" and "stay" commands even when surrounded by distractions and temptations, and handled herself remarkably well for a puppy who is barely over five months old. 

From the top of the hill we crossed a little lane and a field crackling with frost...

...then entered a stretch of woodland on a track known locally as The Black Prince's Path. 

 

We wound our way through leaves and moss...

...past old stone walls...

 ...past gates and stiles...

 

...and then back home again, with a muddy, weary, and contented Tilly.