Down by the lake

 

As soon as he saw it Leon couldn't contain himself. He sat back on his Labrador haunches as his owner slid it off the top of the wardrobe and then started running around himself in circles before burying his nose in it as it was placed on the floor. The small rucksack was just the right size for a weekend hike and to fit the tent in.

And that was the next thing; Leon followed him down the corridor and the stairs, to the kitchen and then out the inner door to the garage where again he sat back on his haunches, fidgeting, his tail wagging non-stop while his owner took it out of the cabinet. The tent. He did another round of running around himself. Leon seemed more like a Police dog on duty not leaving his handler's side as they went back in to the house to pack for the overnight trip.

Leon loved these nights out, camping with his owner down by the lake. The short car journey there, riding shotgun, his fidgets subsiding once they were well on the way. They always parked in the same car park up on the ridge, but their routes down to the lakeside often changed. Leon knew them all. He had a licence to go off lead and show the way once he knew which direction around the lake they were going. 

They descended from the car park down a stairwell cut in to the earth and roughly covered with stone slate slabs, easing on to a dirt track as it went down further and levelled off. Leon glided down the stairs stopping only once for his routine first sniff and pee. As he waited for his owner to catch up he lifted his blonde muzzle, his nose twitching and his mouth open, his sloppy dog tongue slightly drooped out to the side as he took in all the scents as they moved by and around him in the afternoon breeze at this start of summer.

Sun was walking with them but was finding it hard work to keep them company all the time, such were the clouds, like children running all around and disurbing adult conversation. Yet Sun really was a signore, and he knew sooner or later how to burn away the obstacles put infront of him as he beamed down on the Earth. He could have walked blindly to their spot, he would have heard Leon's heavy breathing pants as they sifted out of the long grass in to the shorter one, hearing him bound around, sniff, and then snort and roll as he rubbed his ears on their campsite pitch. He dumped his rucksack and turned towards the water, walking from the grass to the pebble shore. Leon didn't need any invite to paddle in to the fresh, clear water. 

He picked up some pebbles, rolling the smoothness over in his hands before throwing them one by one in to the lake. Leon stood with most of his legs submerged, water dripping from his muzzle, his spiky wet blonde fur head sharply following each throw, watching each one plump in to the deeper water, contemplating for a moment to go and chase and retrieve it. But Leon wasn't just a good dog, he was an intelligent one too. Besides, he was having too much fun just splashing, and he always preferred a good stick to a stone, any day of the week. 

His owner managed to find a few flatter ones, perfect for skimming. He lowered his body to a half-crouch to get the right trajectory, at first getting only two or three skims on each stone. By now that wasn't enough, scanning the shore for more flat pebbles, taking his time to pick the best ones, feeling and caressing them in his fingers in order to judge their potential flight. The satisfaction came when he managed to hit a six or seven skim throw. He couldn't quite tell as the last skims were hard to count, blurring together as if trying to tip-toe and lightly balance across the water surface, before elegantly submerging and shapeshifting in to a torpedo that steathily makes its way down to the depths. Ripples transiently rose and caught the light, making their way back to them both at the water edge before settling in to stillness once again, until it is violently broken by a playful Labrador.

What is it with men and throwing stones in to water? What is it with dogs carrying sticks in their mouths for miles? Is it the satisfaction of the splash? The mesmorisation of the ripples pulsing out from the bullseye entry point in their perfectly spaced and formed circles? Is it too counter the stillness of the water? Is it the swish through the grass? The course feeling of the bark in the mouth, the anticipation of the chew to come? Are they aesthetic? Are they therapy? Is it our simplest of being?

Turning back from the shore to pitch the tent only metres away, Leon sat and watched and wagged his tail, enthusiastically supervising, and then danced and bounded around the parts as his owner nimbly put them together to create their shelter. He noticed his dog's attention span would wander as soon as he got a scent coming from the slightest of breezes through the surrounding long grass; off he went to investigate, to come back as if to say "Sorted, don't worry, I got it."

The night pulled in as clouds kept stumbling by. He pulled on his hoodie, covering his head in the shroud. It wasn't really that cold at all on this night teetering on summer days, it was more of a comfort thing, feeling the warmth move down his body just a few degrees more. Sun said bye and exchanged a few words with Moon before sauntering off to sleep, as their best cosmic friend in the night sky took over. He lit a small camp fire with a circle of smooth stones and the dry sticks he had gathered and managed to keep out of Leon's mouth.

Remaining whisps of cloud sheepishly moved on by, as if scared off by Moon's stare. The sky opened up like a music concert of people holding their smartphones as the light technician dimmed the arena to let the stars take over. At first it seemed like a only a few of them shone sparingly, the bold north star beeming his alpha self through all adversity and anything the dark demons could throw at him. The easily recognisable Orion and his 3-point belt of reference, reaching out his archers arms and legs across the blanket of the night. Then as his eyes adjusted as he peeked up through his hood, the black brightened to a darker shade of grey as it became speckled with splashes from a paint brush designing a galaxy in a flick of a painter's wrist.  The party was in full swing as more and more of Mr.Moon's friends came, creating groups and crowds, a natural bustle surrounded them which multiplied with the reflection from the still water of the lake. The mood was set for the midnight lovers.

From his smartphone, a new synth slid in on his playlist mix, a balearic groove latched on to it and simmered pleasantly with the bass. As chilled as it was and the more it flowed, the more he realised it was too much, it was slowly drowning out the natural melody of the night. He tapped on the two-dash pause on his phone screen, turning it in to a forward-facing arrow and immediately the chirps of grasshoppers took over. Leon turned, his mouth open with the usual side droop of his tongue, looking at him as if to say "Good man." Now his furry friend could really tune in to the night, sat relaxed but alert and Sphinx-like next to him, his snout pointing like a radar out across the water, homing in to anything and everything. He sat almost in envy of his dog with his heightened senses and how he can tune his dial to his surroundings. These were the times he wished he could really talk with his four-legged friend. He wanted to ask Leon what he could hear, what kind of conversations were going on in his furry blonde head. What could he see that humans can't? 

He had always had so many cosmic conversations with Mr.Moon throughout his life from a very young age, some long, some just a few thought provoking exchanges; tonight Mr.Moon was short on the dialogue, tonight he was DJ Moon stood behind the decks orchestrating the party, his constant face looking down and monitoring the crowd reaction, readying to drop the next gravitational beat. The flames from the fire danced with the stars. They were blessed to get in this club for free.

Leon sharply raised his bowed head, momentarily scanning, before lowering it back on to his outstretched front paws. What had he seen? Or had he heard something? Though he kind of knew what Leon would say; close your eyes and you will begin to see

Stroking his head he saw Leon's eyes faltering and he edged back in to the tent to roll the sleeping bag over his bottom half, he buffed up Leon's blanket next to him. The fire was on its smallest embers, it was almost time to zip-up and turn in for the night. 

But not quite yet. He looked up at DJ Moon who was closing his set with his last few floor fillers until he felt his own eyes heavy. He laid back letting them gradually close and feeling himself melt in to the dark chocolate coulant of deep night, he was exactly where he needed to be. A smile edged wider and wider on his lips like Leon always had most of the day. 


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