companion

Walking the grass path as it snaked through the bracken banks, up to the slate spur. The wind moving about the valley, buffeting me as I travelled. My gloved hands by my sides, my right hand was pushed gently from behind. Turning I see I am joined by a big, black dog. Standing hip high, thick, glossy, ink black fur. Newfoundland maybe. We stand looking at each other. Me recovering from the surprise, questioning my safety. The dog looking at me with questioning eyes, tongue lolling from a panting mouth. Not a single other person to be seen. My companion stayed with me until a few hundred yards from the spur, standing firm as I reached the viewpoint. My intention to shoot the landscape was quickly abandoned as the gusting winds strengthened, pushing me about. I gave up, returning to the track and rejoined my friend.  Glancing at each other we walked back, returning to the shelter of the lower valley. The big black dog padded on down the riverside, I turned heading up the road.  

(Coniston, Coppermines)