She walks with unrestrained joy, sits with unrestrained happiness. Like a hummingbird her tail moves with rapid fire speed, her entire body shaking back and forth, back and forth like a combustion engine. Her eyes are saucer bowl round with none of that drooping arrow in your heart look of deep sadness that some will pierce your heart with. She walks side to side, side to side smelling the world. Her only care is birds. Spring is for chasing robins.
Sometimes I look at her and all I see are birds inside her head, blue skies, robins and the undiluted thrill of meaningless chase. This is Happiness at its simplest. We call her Been. She’s been here and she’s been there. Little Being. My friend calls her Perpetua for her perpetual happiness. Perpetua/Been graces the world with a purity that lifts me – makes me feel lighter.
We start our mornings when it’s still dark with a walk on the wooded path out back and I’m greeted with the chatter of bird song. I often wonder what they’re talking about – what is it exactly that they’re saying to each other in these sing song conversations that punctuate the quietness of the early, early morning. What is this wild orchestra that brings in the early morning light?
Meanwhile Been the little dog chases real and imagined birds and there’s a lightness in these early morning transactions, there’s a lightness in Been that elevates me to a place that I think might be called peace.