Dancing in the wetlands

I cannot dance. Thing is, that does not stop me.

When I go walking with my pup, one of the best things about being out in the middle of nowhere is that I can listen to my music and jump up and down like a retard, waving my arms in the air and singing the lyrics that I don’t even know.

I can blast my music as loud as I want without a care in the world about others judging my terrible dancing, singing and music that on this particular morning was the Annie soundtrack.

Since being out in the country I have only ever taken my pup to the wetlands that is a huge fenced off area with swamps, trees, mud and benches. There is no one else ever out at the wetlands.

When I say no one, I mean humans. Cow, fox and rabbits don’t count.

But today, a truck pulled into the carpark and two driver in high vis came dashing around the corner to see if I was ok.




Apparently my singing and dancing resembled crying out for help.



I think I’ll stick to walking in the wetlands.

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