Chapter 186
This kat has become the dog. Like the faithful hound that casts back and forth at the end of the line before you, seeking scents and hidden news, from one side of the trail to the other, searching, retreating, advancing. The dog that free of the lead, roams through the trees following a scent before looping around and back, checking that you’re still there, bounding off again into the undergrowth until the next return.
On the 3000 meter paseo I march off ahead of the parents, swinging with long strides, feeling the weight of boots at the ends of my legs, listening to the soft fall of feet, mine and others, enjoying the freedom of a body that is warm, loose, relaxed.
Moving forward navigating a trail among various nationalities, I catch snippets of words and conversations in different languages. I walk holding my breath near the occasional smokers or synthetic scent-lathered bodies. I walk until I judge parents have expended their energy and are sitting to rest by now. Then I turn about to walk back until I see them resting comfortably on a bench gazing out at the endless blue sky that fades into endless blue sea glossed by golden sunshine.
The waves have receded to their normal nonchalant behaviour after the past several weeks of silver-grey tempestuous skies and unruly waters. Temperatures are back to Mediterranean norm and life has resumed with afternoon paseo gatherings – random meetings of amigas y vecinas- temporarily obstructing the roads around our home.
Dog-walkers are back out…one wonders what the poor dogs did for relief of boredom while thin-blooded southerners were all hidden away from wet and cooler days. A small, beautifully-coloured Podenco accosted us on one walk, following with manic circles and forays afield and back… until after a full circuit of the urbanization we found her owner. She appeared at speed again yesterday, narrowly escaping a collision with a passing car, we returned her to her owner again. Her (the dog’s) name is Odi.
Once again I lie on the broad malecón wall that splits paving slabs from beach sands, the cold of stone seeping into the heat of my back. I study the specs of blue and shards of brilliant light through the weave of holes in my hat lying over my face, protecting me from the brilliance of the sun. I lie in a semi-daze contemplating the universe, occasionally noticing the slap or shuffle of feet, wondering whether the bodies above the footfalls are old or young. Noticing my breath flow in and out, focusing on a deep abdominal breath and the expansion of ribs and diaphragm until disturbed by the featherlight stroke of a single finger along my forearm. Gentle, eternally soft, awakening cue, pulling me back to my childhood in a magical second. My mother’s touch. They are off on the homeward stretch, moving in gentle rhythm, so I walk behind and then pass them in a few steps. Striding forth in my impersonation of the eternally youthful dog, I observe myself reaching the end of the paseo, once again rebounding back, retracing steps until I meet them a second time and a third time… There will never be enough times regardless of the count of days and hours and seconds.
And then…the Andalusian horses, magical majestic creatures that tower above me. I work with a stallion who could fell me with one swift step, but instead he leans gently into me, lowering his great head for a soft connection, something utterly different to the norm in this place. I am blessed.
Life is a cluttered crush of glittering fragments, delight, dread, dreams and drama, drifting and driving, smoothed with love, sweetened by endless curiosity.
Kat Dancer
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