The trail at the end of the street started in the wide open. Signs warned of ticks, but the wide trail made it feel less risky.
We turned around (always difficult with Tucker who needs a clear finish line—so I turned us around at a trail crossing), and headed back through the forest to see it from a different angle and return back to civilization.
After lunch we returned to Felton and took a stop at what is believed to be the country’s tallest covered bridge. I had hoped there might be an actual walk there, but it was within sight of the parking lot.
A family was attempting to get a photo, but with a child involved, it was taking longer than it would have with just adults. I waited it out some, wanting to get a shot with Tucker, but then gave up to walk across the bridge. We could take a photo upon our return.
As we passed the family, they all expressed wanting to say hello to Tucker, but Tucker was too excited to get up the ramp and onto the bridge.
“There’s a dog who’s obviously been here before!” one of them said. I replied with, “No, actually. He just loves exploring new places.”
Tucker practically ran into the covered bridge, sniffing and enthusiastically checking out the place while also heading toward the other end.
We got a shot in of the plaque
They commended Tucker on being a much better--and faster--photo subject than their kid. What can I say? Tuck's a professional at this point.
Tucker prefers me not to be in the photos with him, so it took some time for him to figure out how to work with me.
This isn’t 45.
This is the last day of 44... and close enough.
I had accidentally and opportunistically made our travels coincide with the Orionid meteor shower which peaked on October 21st.
As I looked up at the skies with my pup beside me, I thought about a conversation I had overheard on our walkabout at Pogonip this morning.
They had gone the full distance (downhill and back) so while we were on heading back to the trailhead, they were behind us. Tucker took a moment to sniff something so I let them pass, and while behind them, heard them talking about their lives again. One said to the other, “I thought I was doing well by starting to do walk and talks again. I thought that was a big step. But then Marge said, ‘I saw you on that Galapagos trip. You were happier than I have ever seen you. I think you need to commit to new experiences like that.’ And she’s right. I had set the bar too low. I was happy then. I need to commit to adventure every day.”
Commit to adventure every day.
It was something I, too, needed to do. Not just for me, but for Tucker. Our day had been filled with adventure. And while we can’t make every day a vacation, we can commit to new experiences and doing something meaningful every day.
So as the clock turned to midnight and I watched for shooting stars, I didn’t just wish but made a commitment: I commit to adventure every day. I will seek out new experiences to try new things and explore and visit old places to see them anew. Life may be short in years, but it can be long and meaningful when you make every moment last and every day an adventure.