From the end of my driveway down Pecan Lane to the "main" road and back up to the house is one mile. I could walk it in my sleep, as many times as I've travelled that same solitary mile. Often the dogs go with me, chasing each other back and forth across the lane and playing hide and go seek in the cotton fields. The heat has been oppressive this summer, and I've found other things to do besides pour sweat and dodge horseflies down and back up that hill. Back in the day, when I was a lot younger, I would do the 2.5 mile route to the golf course and back, but the prettiest part of the track lies right in front of my house. The ancient pecan trees hold hands overhead forming a tunnel of sorts. It has always been my sacred spot..where I forget about my troubles and marvel at the wonder and glory of nature.

I've walked it to the beat of rock'n'roll or Paul Harvey and I've done it in winter, summer, spring and fall. I have literally cried a river on that asphalt, working out things that were troubling my soul and letting go of the past. It is the place where Poops and Big Ernie do their best bonding, and I realized today that I have missed that terribly. I have some new tennis shoes to break in and a few weeks until dark comes early so it's prime time to hit the road in a somewhat consistent manner until the winter winds push me back inside.

The kudzu has been trimmed off of the road several times this summer..plenty of rain and hot weather have combined to keep it lush and green and crawling for the sky. Looks like a bumper crop midway up the hill in front of the old dairy barn. Too bad I can't pick it and sell it :)

Y'all have a Happy Labor Day/Beginning of Poopie's birthday week. I expect it to be a good one, 'cuz Faith says so.