Return to the Forest

For the first time since late Spring, Kona and I headed to the forest. I picked a route that kept us on a fireroad and away from the pesky foxtails that chased us from these trails in the first place.

Winter's water disappeared from the creek.
We zigged up the trail, avoiding the narrows of the canyon.
We snaked up the hillside, keeping views of the morning sky.
Kona, who often is told she looks like a coyote (if not outright mistaken for one), showed off her wild animal pose.
A doe crashed down the near vertical slope above us, showing how gravity strips the grace from even the most sure-footed. Kona wanted to follow. I wondered why the doe ran so quickly.
The sun made a cameo through the clouds but was outshone on what turned into a day of rain.
Near the top, Kona caught the irresistible whiff of an animal and took the direct route to get a closer sniff.
She eventually gave up.

At our destination, we took in the view of the city to the South
and the forest ahead of us.
On our way down, Kona skirted around nervousness (Kona often gets nervous as we head towards our car) but managed to look my way when I called her, sun in her eyes and all.