One – number of trucks driven under low hanging wire, number of telephone poles pulled down by wire, number of transformers that blew, number of blocks away I was, number of screams that came out of my mouth.
Also one – number of flamingo puppets lying out, number of chipmunks seen flying into a hole, number of trains that passed while walking on Braeland Ave.
Still one – number of statues of the Virgin spied in a garden. Number of times Finn barked at a dog and looked at me for a treat (denied!)
Three – number of times I gave Finn treats for reasons unrelated to other dogs or for no reason at all.
Also Three – number of times I gave Finn treats for seeing other dogs and not reacting.
Five – number of people I recognized from making the Langley/Cypress loop regularly. Also roughly the number of times loud noise interrupted my peace and annoyed me (not counting the transformer explosion).
Nine or so — number of neighbors that spilled out of their houses after the big electrical POP. I recognized more than half of them.
Eighteen – number of rabbits counted at the Fun Corner Yard, but I’ll bet there were more.
And then there was the view of the woods that made me pause and the burdock that offered up a rhythmic patterning that somehow thrilled me. Both resist the count.
Have a good start to your week! I’ve determined that being disoriented to season feels a lot like sadness. Or maybe it’s the other way around?