The Veil of Forgetfulness
As I awake early, I gaze at the clouds above, the under-surface is illuminated with ripples of rosy light by the sun which has not yet risen above the horizon. The view however, across the folding fields later becomes indescribable with silk-sack clouds moving on the commotion of the air and where a twittering lark lightly ascends and exerts its charm. Constable himself could not have painted a better picture.
In the distance I watch a farmer ploughing his field. Above and behind the tractor the gulls are wheeling and screaming as they search diligently for worms and where the clods of loam have a homely smell of the earth. As the farmer lifts the plough shares to turn, he waves like a flame to acknowledge my presence and as I respond the sun reflects off his blades and dazzles my eyes.
As I amble along the lane, the lichen, ivy and mosses keep evergreen the trees which are alive atop with wings. A squirrel comes down to gather a soft mossy mattress to line his drey to aid a restful night, and in the twilight hours the bats will be hunting softly as they leave their lair.
Along these happy highways are where Blue and I would often travel and admire the beauty of the five petalled blossoms of the ‘Goldilocks’ which appears every year like golden stars in the lakeside hedgerows. As I reach the wooded area the sun sheds a blessing on the scene. I can see the gilded reflections of the marsh marigolds that grow in the borders of the brook. Nearby a fallen tree lies with ferns abound, there’s a melody of colour here from the abundance of wildflowers freshly opened, untouched and free. Celandine, wood anemones, ransoms and with the bluebells waft of balm swirling in the wind’s breath it stops me in my tracks and I delight in the moment. Here nature has lavished her beatitude, everything has a beauty but not everyone sees it. However, I judge not how another’s taste is caught but for myself this place spells home.
As I finally arrive at the lakeside beauty spot, a place where Blue my trusty companion and I often frequented over many years I begin to silently absorb the atmosphere, refining my thoughts of him and of nature by a kind of intellectual osmosis. Sadly, a veil of forgetfulness now comes to life as every sound of Blue at length is hushed away and it grieves my heart to think of him, for here is the anchor of my purest thoughts. However, they quickly dissolve as several Sunday paced dogs go running by and it puts a dent in my mood with deep feelings in my heart. I must now take my leave as a semi-circle of dog walkers gathers, their vowels becoming emphatic, but the mood lightens once again as I observe several fat creamy-coloured geese dozing blissfully in the lovely sunshine.
Out on the lake a cormorant alights on the jetty having just caught a fish and in the jerk of a movement of its beak swiftly swallows it. Close by the mooring buoys revolving like kegs roll, gathering froth which floats and sails away. Shortly after a thick fog begins to roll in off the lake and envelopes the landscape in an eerie shroud, I must now make my way home. But a twinge of doubt creeps into my mind and I realise that I am lost without my little companion, and I now know in my heart that I must try to recover the equipoise of my sensitive nature.
The sadness that prevails me hadn’t gone un-noticed by my family, they had secretly been researching and had located a site for re-homing ‘show’ Cocker Spaniels just like Blue and presented me with details and to my great surprise a local contact number. My pain was immense, I knew I could never replace my beloved Blue but after careful deliberation I made the call. The following day after re-counting the circumstances of my sad loss I was told in a grandiloquent manner the possibility of re-homing a three-year-old which had recently had a difficult time giving birth and was told I would be contacted sometime soon. When the call finally came the news wasn’t good and my hopes were suddenly dashed, but only for a moment. I was told to visit at noon the following day. After a lengthy discussion I was informed by the breeder that she had been looking for a special home for one of her own puppies aged just eight months.
I was introduced to his mother before seeing him. She was beautiful, calm and elegant, and was very attentive to her new family of pups. As I looked across the yard, I saw a vision coming towards me, I was thunder-struck just how much he looked like Blue. The sun had come out in my mind and a little smile may have played upon my face; he was just perfect. The next day my new companion came home and settled into his new surroundings just fine. Now his new adventures would begin, but I wonder all night in my vision, had his mother forgotten and perhaps would never again remember that she had once loved a pup call ‘Maverick’.
