My last day in London was Wednesday–what a hard day.  It always is when it’s time for me to go home.  It seems to get harder each time I visit.  I went to say goodbye to the Heath, to walk and think.

I first stepped foot on the Heath five years ago, and never has anything felt as right as I did that day.  My feet sensed the terrain as familiar versus strange, my hands reveled in running over the bark of thick-trunked, tall and leafy trees covered in vines.  And the dogs!  Dogs everywhere…happy dogs.  Dogs running.  Chasing.  Fetching balls and sticks.  Seeing dogs on the Heath is perhaps one of my most favorite things in the world, and I try to always snap photos without getting in the way.  Labs and retrievers are favorites because that’s what I grew up with, but my smile knows no breed.

This was a beautiful dog, a ‘good girl’ I heard her owner call her after retrieving the thrown stick.


I got such joy out of watching this yellow lab–I was reminded of the golden retriever I grew up with, Ellery (named after the character and crime fiction written under the pen name Ellery Queen):  whenever we brought Ellery to my aunt’s summer camp on Lake Champlain in Vermont, he would stick his head under water and pull out stones, only to drop them on the beach.  He spent hours at a time building rock piles until his eyes were bloodshot.


In saying my goodbye, I not only captured dogs (and the bird above) with my camera, I also filed away some moving images with sound.  That’s what I did for the last few days of my trip.  I wanted to file as much of London away inside of me as I could, so I can retrieve the bits and pieces and impressions on the nights and days when things here at home seem most unmanageable.  I’m not sure when I’ll get back again.


One last photo of the day…a favorite.


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