Uhh Oh

I was very upset and mentally chastising myself for my lack of attention to things important to this journey. On our daily walks in the park I have symbolically carried the Story Stick along. On Thursday after loading Riley into Mack I went back inside Roz to get the stick. It was missing from its place of honor and I instantly remembered where I last saw it.

On Tuesday (we didn't walk Wednesday due to rain, cold and serious winds), after completing our walk, I placed it on the roof of Mack while I checked out a tree that was flying a kite (more on that in a bit). When I walked back to get Riley's travel bowl and fill it with water I thought to myself, “That is a bad place to put the stick. I might forget it.” Well I DID! I knew it had fallen off somewhere between here and there.
   
On the return trip to my place of ineptitude, I scanned our routine path in search of the treasured icon. It was not to be found. I accepted the loss reluctantly and we made our daily journey (a walk in the park, really). Usually we see several park maintenance vehicles during this stroll and I planned to ask if anyone had seen my lost symbol. Today we saw no maintenance people. Damn.

Near the end of our walk, we were right next to the road we drive out of the park. Again I began scanning the area where it could have fallen off the roof. It was not where I thought it could be. Then I noticed something that shouldn't be there a few yards farther down and on the other side of the road. Someone, I assume a park employee, found it and stuck it in the ground. There it stood in its splendor, tall and proud, the good luck feather proudly waving. I was elated.  THANK YOU to whoever found it and put it there. You can bet that it will never again be placed on the roof.

Now for the kite. Riley is one dog that looks up. What I mean is, he always spies things overhead. About a couple hundred yards from the end of our walk I noticed he was interested in something in the sky. It was a kite, maybe a couple hundred feet above the parking lot where Mack was waiting for our return. I followed the line, expecting to see someone flying it, and there was no one at the controls.

When we arrived at the parking lot I realized that the kite string, including the stick the string was wound on, was tangled in a tree. This was cool; the first time I saw a tree fly a kite. I tried in vain to record the event photographically but my cell phone camera was not up to the task. The kite did not survive Wednesday’s storm. I wonder where it is now.