Wayward Walrus?

We rounded the far end of the field, and walked into the copse of trees at the westerly edge of the expanse, my husband ambling alongside, and the dog snuffling just ahead.

“Um, Hon… is that, um… a walrus, or just a dead tree? My husband queried, pointing ahead. I followed his gaze to a stand of trees in the distance. Nestled in it was a large mass of brown, rising from the ground and glinting with shimmery whiteness on its surface.

“Um…..I…uh…don’t think its a walrus……but I don’t know what it is,” I answered as we slowly advanced toward the hillock, dog in tow. Closing the distance, the identity of knoll became evident. It was a pile of fresh dark soil – presumably for the nearby ballfields – shrouded with a white tarp, remnants of last night’s rain pooling in the folds and glinting in the sun.

“So glad to know its not a wayward walrus in these here parts,” I teased my husband.

“You never know,” he smiled.

Rounding the last corner we headed for home, walking with Ollie

through the first green sparkle of spring.

2 thoughts on “Wayward Walrus?

  1. This is so funny because I know exactly where you walk Ollie, and I have seen all sorts of objects in the distance and could not figure them out until I got closer. Our minds can sure conjure up interesting (im)possibilities.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s