I had to use the windshield wipers on the way to the trailhead this morning. When I got out of the car, I looked down the first stretch of trail that normally boasts a view of downtown. This morning, grey covered the city.
I zipped up my vest and Kona and I took off. Looking around, it felt like summer had come and gone, leaving the hills scorched. The morning's moisture was too late to bring life back to the landscape. Witch's Hair suffocated the last stretch of green mustard plants.
I saw animal tracks - first skunk and then raccoon. The trail seemed to be well used the past few days. Perhaps the city scavengers sought refuge from the mayhem of the 4th. Whatever the case, Kona checked out the scene.
We had the noisiest 4th of July that I can remember. Kona, who has never had issues with fireworks, ended up pacing the house, looking for a hiding place on Sunday. Thankfully, her crate worked as a safe haven, but she's seemed off-kilter and ailed by stomach troubles the past few days. I was grateful to have an empty trail to try to reboot this morning.
When we turned around to head home, I stopped to wipe water off my forehead. I took a deep breath to fill my lungs with cool air. It's July, but today was summer's intermission.