I took pause this morning on a walk to mourn a life, a life that passed right before my eyes.

It’s been awhile since I’ve walked outside my little neighborhood. A few times around my block is what I’ve been able to handle on top of sleepless nights. But, my son’s sleeping! And thriving, doubling in growth and happiness due to his sound hours in slumber. And…that means so am I!

I put my iPod on this gorgeous 16th century-folk music and walked. The nature in front of me played like a music video. Life!

I got to a busy street and this thought flashed through me: Do we get a message - that ½ second we’re going to die – like a subliminal flash in our brain. And because the message is fast, no one has ever been able to communicate it?

These thoughts are not reckless, wacky ideas because in Costa Rica pedestrians get killed a lot on the roads. And, I’m afraid; this small country has a terrible, terrible record of deaths every year due to motor vehicles. So, my eyes and ears and senses – all six of them – are quite alert when I have to cross the street, any street.

The music video continued and up ahead I saw these two dogs playing and running after each other with such joy, I couldn’t help but catch the energy waves from where I stood.

Their tongues hung out in that “it-just-can’t-get-any-better-than-this-if-you’re-a-dog” kind of panting.

I began to worry though because they played on the boulevard and crossed the street without a doggy, dog thought. Well, I thought, this isn’t a busy street, and I am amazed at how adroit dogs are around cars in this country. Yes, some do get hit, but considering the estimated 600,000 strays on the streets, many make it much longer than you’d think. These creatures have come to accept that cars are predators and learn at a young age to walk along the highway. I’ve even seen a dog stop at a red light, and then cross on green.

The sound of a vehicle rumbled a few blocks in the distance. I saw the big black dog - tongue a’drooping - on the grass taking a break. Whew, they knew better. But where was his friend?

The bus approached in the distance, a big one with huge tires.

Then, as if on cue, the small dog darted into the street with as much joy as he did a few moments early. His joy knew no bounds; he played as if there was no tomorrow.

He almost cleared the bottom of the bus. If it hadn’t been for the bounce in his step, he probably wouldn’t have smashed his head into the axel.

There was one last yip, and he lay on the asphalt. He’d see no tomorrow.

I held on to the fence as the music played on in my ears. Now the melody was a hymn good-bye to this life that had spent only a little while here. I approached the body, though I knew he was dead. I decided it was right to see if there was any chance. There wasn’t.

I bowed and gave a moment of thanks for his life, for his joy.

We all know it can only take a moment. But do we really understand that?

I walked home and saw hundreds and hundreds of seeds blooming in the cracks along the street. Theses seeds belonged to the large Guanacaste tree. Every bloom would eventually be “weed-wacked” by the gardener with all the best intentions.

I picked up a few seeds. My daughter and I will plant them in the park in honor of this life that left us today – this life that gave it his all.