Contre jour in The Grove. Dancing with shadows.
Moved by Phillip Larkin's poem The Mower about a hedgehog run over in the long grass which ends:
...we should be careful
of each other, we should be kind
while there is still time.
An elegant whippet with a pale dappled coat. It trots on its lead with a confidence that seems to come from knowing how good it looks. All style and tidiness. I think of Emma Bovary's "miniature greyhound" lost from their carriage during a stop while she and her husband are moving to their new home.