Revisiting

The air smelled of pine and cedar. The path was mulched heavily, so that there was a nice padding under my feet, which I was grateful for, or my knees were, given the short, but sharp inclines and declines. This was the path at Main Street Nature Park, a bit of wilderness literally carved out of the woods behind the shops along Main Street in downtown Weaverville. My breath came loudly as I neared the tops of each climb, and I was reminded of the last leg of the Avon walk, so many years ago now...we had maybe 2 miles to go, and the road became this LONG hill. Alexa cheered me on, I took it slowly...and even with my lack of preparation, there was no way, short of collapse, that I wouldn't have finished that sucker. 15 miles that day. Now I'm happy with 2 and building my way to 3 miles. One day at a time.

The Main Street park was a good leg/knee workout, but it only felt like about 1 mile, so I hopped back in the car and went to Lake Louise. It was busier there...they have a really nice playground, so everybody was out with their 2.3 kids. I tried not to ache inside, just walked and checked my breathing, nodding occasionally to fellow walkers. I noticed the nest almost before I noticed that it was in a birch tree, and then I was flooded with a nostalgic something, because how long has it been since I've seen the pretty, peeling bark of a white birch?

It was a good walk, oddly made me appreciate the flat of the soccer field more (pansy Floridian!). But I was grateful for the time in the woods today...it's a bit of an introspective day. I was editing a site earlier, for an outfit that mainly sells heat packs made of rice, those things you throw in the microwave to relieve aches and pains. Last Christmas, my Lilsisinlaw handmade one of those suckers for her dad, Dad J, who was in quite a bit of pain by then as the cancer ravaged his body. I could picture her, working it on her sewing machine, hand-stitching it closed, praying over it to infuse it with healing energy (she's gone witch too, about 2 years now). I remember her pleasure as she took pictures with her new camera, in the hospital room as he unwrapped his gifts. We lost him exactly a month later. I don't grieve nearly the same with Dad J. After losing my dad, there was a been-there, done-that feel to my sadness. But it knocked me today, and his spirit is close by, in my heart.