I left a few minutes before 6. The sky already faded to light blue, but I was reminded that our early sunrises would soon be over with Daylight Savings fast approaching.
Puffy clouds lingered in the sky after another weekend storm. Soon, the light breeze kicked up its heels and pushed the clouds into the east.
I attached Kona's leash to my waistbelt and pushed uphill. I hoped to tuck out of the wind, but no luck. We were tossed around all morning.
Kona handles wind better than I do. I focused on the clear skies, trying to keep away the spooks that wind always sends my way.
We ascended our second hill and were greeted by the sun. I quickly shuffled through my waistbelt to find my sunglasses. Kona and I stood at the entrance of a wind tunnel, and I was ready to get moving.
Maybe the wind got to Kona more that I thought. She was a tense pooch. She held her tail down tightly as we ran down our longest hill. She still found scent-trails to follow and soon alerted me to some elusive friends. Mule deer! She frantically followed their tracks. I've only seen deer on this trail once, and it's been months since I've seen any evidence of them at all. Our hoof-friends weren't slipping away without Kona's investigation.
We turned around to head back uphill. The wind began gusting enough to plant sumacs on their sides. As the trail curved east, the sun blinded me and I hoped that there weren't any cyclists headed our way. With the sun stealing my vision, and the wind blocking all sounds, I was glad to reach the crest of our hill and head out of the sun.
The wind cleared the sky and gave us a clear view of Downtown and even the ocean. I was bummed that Kona couldn't relax.
We soon reached the highest point of our run. Like always, I stopped to take in the mountains.
On our way downhill, Kona yanked so hard she nearly knocked me down. I gave her a leash correction that I regretted before it happened. My dog cringed whenever I came near her for the rest of our run.
I looked to the sky and marveled at the crevasses the air painted on the mountains. I wanted sails. I wanted to fly away over the mountains and thank the wind for taking me. I wanted to relentlessly tire, pulling the lines, and land back on ground rejuvenated.
I kept my eyes upward. It wasn't a morning when I could handle the disconnect I had with my favorite canine.
We pushed through our final mile. We ran quickly through an oak-covered stretch, where the sounds of crackling branches helped me pick up my pace. At a final look out point, I was glad to see Kona's tail relax.
We had covered some distance. As we drove home, my body felt the restfulness that follows good exercise. My emotions were unfortunately also tired from the uneasy morning I had with Kona.
I was happy that when we got home, Kona's best friend was coming back from a walk. The two pups got to romp for while before us humans had to get going. Kona was happy to be with her friend, and I was glad to see her mood lifted.