by underswansea


A frosty night, or maybe, morning. I can’t be sure. The longjohns are on. Lisa and I headed into the bush. It has been a long week. We missed each other more than anything. It is funny that’s the case after so many years. The dogs are still fine. One is losing their mind the other’s body is breaking down. Neither one is worse off, nor asking sympathy. They both still ask for meat.