And it came to pass he did head down to the shore as He had come so many times, crumbs of pale sand clinging to the dark hair of his ankles and toes. But this morning: discipleless, in silence, contemplative, combing the lumpy beach for smooth stones to skip.
And he is quietly delighted by the line of light separating from the dark sea waters; the rustle of ripe grass seeds heavy against each other, preaching in the dawn breeze; the rising sun lifting a continent of sound—warbled queries—from the beating breasts of fowls of the air, bright as a new coin rendered to Caesar.
And at his knee a hairy creature, a sincere canine, not worth mentioning by the Apostles, but true in the Wilderness, a steadfast and constant companion, who doth lift his eyes to the Master.
And Jesus, answering, saith unto him, “See here, the workmanship of mine hands.” And they stood, man and dog at the break of day, and it was good. And they did breathe deeply , gladly, paused as one for a mortal minute.
(Wendy: heartfelt thanks for taking care of Duke for us while we've been here.)
(Duke: we really hope you can adjust to being displaced by two little humans.)