April 24th, 2026
My dog Marvel is a terrible walking partner.
She takes forever.
Marvel sees a tree. She approaches it and stops us completely, disrupting our walk.
This forces me to take in my surroundings.
I notice for the first time how blue the sky is today. Some geese fly overhead and land on the sparkling pond down the hill from us. There’s a father and his young son fishing off the dock. I take a deep breath and start to taste every note of the sweet air as it passes through my nose and into my belly. Speaking of notes, I hear the harmony of wildlife play through the woods, the low hum of the cool wind and high sliding chirps of the black-capped chickadees. God’s most perfect creature, the squirrel, climbs down a tree and onto the trail to say hello. I wave back.
I’m reminded of the Buddhist texts I’ve been reading: be present in this moment, and in every moment. You never step into the same river twice and all that jazz. I look at Marvel and realize that we will never take this same walk again. We do not last forever. Change is the only constant; the only permanent thing is our impermanence. I get emotional. Tears fill my eyes as a woman walks past us cautiously, understandably, as I am a man in the woods.
I am close to enlightenment. I can feel the universe on the tip of my finger and tongue.
Then Marvel sees the next tree, and we walk a few feet more. We start the process again.
Maybe Marvel is a pretty good walking partner.
Maybe she’s the best.
The Den 