Mild but cloudy afternoon. Pork curry, lentils, ladies fingers and Maldives’ fish curry lunch. Dog and Dhammika both. Dhammika’s now at his favourite perch on the couch. The laptop perched on his lap too. The dog had a lovely morning. One of these days he’s actually going to find this Fox Dhammika keeps screaming at him to be careful about in doggie heaven, the field behind their house. After Dhammika went out and came back he got the dog, Jasper a nice small football. Which Jasper promptly safeguarded under the bed, he feels akin to Dhammika. So he’s joined Dhammika on the couch, uncomfortably lying down as close as possible. A dog’s way of saying he loves you.
Last days of April, and Dhammika waits May. The rose bushes have already started to bud, the leaves bright clusters of magenta. The roses to bloom in the Month of May. Bright Pink, Light Pink, Orange and Red roses. The colours that keep alive Dhammika’s mother in his soul. Her favourite colours. White he will never grow after the white rose wreathe he had at her funeral. White is his mothers’ special colour.
The evenings are longer now. Twilight late. Nights mild. Sleeping bare bodied at night, snuggling under the duvet and the warmth of your wife. Most days the dog also jumping to bed to strategically announce his alpha status by placing himself between the two of you. But you don’t mind, he’s like a hot water bottle.
The mild nights and late twilight mean longer runs, longer rambles with the dog, solitary long evening walks just taking a timeout from everyday life, just relaxing on the field staring up at the May sky. The dog on a long lead that’s held lightly in your hand. He’s always quiet, enjoying the solitude himself.
Ah the month of May, the loins stir more, the women are prettier, and the nights promise more.
May the month of May always be hers. Her, the one you love.