Wednesday. After a second bath, this time in the tub, Tiger is safely ensconced in her closet. Closets are Tiger's preferred sleeping places. The first bath out on the patio had failed to purge a horridly pungent odor of something very rotten acquired during this morning's walk.

We had driven north from Columbia on N. E. 33rd Drive. When 33rd reaches Marine, you can loop back on a small driveway between 33rd and a small power-boat company. Parking on the west side of 33rd, a nice paved path leads under 33rd and through grasslands next to the west end of the airport. Tiger and Zeno liked this choice for a walk, as it is a great place to walk with dogs off-leash. The morning was cool--I was wearing a rust red corderoy shirt, and a favorite knitted hat. Overcast mornings have replaced the continuous sunshine which poured down most of the summer. Four red lights were visible far up the runway. Intermittantly, a light mist of rain brushed past. Barnswallows swept this way and that above the grasses.

Tiger was in full swing, bounding and bouncing along in the grass--a series of jumps followed by sniffing and digging into a hole. Zeno followed always a little behind, finding good smells by the path, but keeping me always in sight of his quiet brown eyes. Clumps of Queen Anne's Lace, sorrel, teasel, and bachelor's buttons lent their colors to the yellow of the grass. I kept my eye on Tiger, yelling when her enthusiasm sometimes took her too close to Marine Drive (which runs parralel to the walking path, perhaps 500 feet away.) This is also a very popular spot for cyclists, but we only saw 3 groups all morning.

As we came close to the radio towers, the grass next to our path became tall enough to obscure the view of the runways. The weed/flowers were also more lush and abundant here. Another quarter mile along, the path turned up towards Marine Drive. Once accross, we found ourselves at Broughton Beach, on the Columbia. A historical disply explained that Capt. Broughton was with Vancouver's expedition in 1792, and started an exploratory voyage up the Columbia Gorge from this point. Zeno was more interested in the water. We walked accross the damp sand, down to the river, and Zeno waded in. Tiger also pranced in the water a little.

On the way back, as we walked past the high grass next to the radio towers, I heard a loud flapping. A bird with a large wingspan rose out of the grass on the other side of the barbed wire fence (which circles the runways.) It landed on top of a telephone poll just ahead of us. I believe this was a hawk, and Mr. Hawk had no fear as I peared up at him. He rested regally as I looked tried to notice details of his coloring. He (or she) was a tawny color, black beaked. with a vest of dark brown spots covering his/her chest. Oddly, when we continued along, the hawk flew forward to the next pole, and watched us again. This, and Tiger's smell when I entered the car, were the most notable occurances of the day.