This particular moment.

They were standing in the center of a bamboo forest. It was an overcast day. The light filtering from the wide open top was muted. It broke apart against the towering fat stalks, shading their bark from lime-yellow to  deeper grey-green. Beneath their feet the dead leaves had accumulated in a soft, whisper-dry carpet of beige. It was intense in here. So quiet. So still. She could hear her pulse. She sat, cross-legged, and Finn climbed into her lap and licked her chin. Nothing moved but the cool, river-scented air and Finn's big ears. Twitch, flicker, twitch. Always on guard that one.
It came to her that perhaps this was what it felt like to meditate successfully. To be in a place of such enclosed silence that the loudest sound would be your own heartbeat...or your thoughts. She closed her eyes and lifted her Finn damp chin and let the breeze waffle through her eyelashes and kiss her on the lips and cheeks. She shoved her scrambling, shouting thoughts out of her mind and shut the door behind them. They knocked. But she turned her back. The knocking grew muffled as the sound of bamboo leaves rustled into her ears, louder than her thoughts, louder than the breeze, louder than the dust motes falling pit-a-pit-a-pit onto the leafy floor. The weight of the warm Corgi anchored her. He was unusually un-restless. Her hand patted his long back.
"Do you like it?" Finn whispered.
"Very much, " She breathed.
"Thought you might. We can come back everyday."
"Good."
To have him pull her off the beaten track into this little sanctuary created by sun and wind and earth and seed was a blessing. It was always a wonder to her that when Man stayed out of it, Nature strode in and let loose her magnificence.
"How did you know this was here?" She asked.
"Oh. The butterflies were singing about it this morning when we were out picking the last of the blackberries."
"Of course. The butterflies." She smiled down at him.
"Do you know what I like best about this place, Human?"
"Tell me."
"This is the only time you and I will live in this particular moment. The only time. And it pulls you into it and holds you hard...and you actually stop and feel the entire moment. How often does that get to happen?"
She was perturbed. He was right. She rarely had time to stop and actually be in the moment of what was happening, as opposed to remembering it later. How startling the difference. She needed to keep this close. She needed to remember this. She needed to come back and sit among the bamboo with Finnegan until Being became second-nature.
"Is this what it's like to be a dog?" She whispered.
"Always. We don't waste a minute thinking about tomorrow. We're too busy feeling today."
So they sat awhile longer, enjoying the silence and the togetherness and the sounds of the bamboo forest growing all around them. And then it began to spill fat, chilly raindrops and they made a giggling dash for the car. But for the rest of the day she was suspended in a comfortable, happy bubble of Now. Finnegan, knowing he had accomplished yet another task on his list of Very Important Things, spent the afternoon engaging in some very serious in-the-moment napping.