I was finally able to take a walk Monday afternoon around my neighborhood. The sun was bright, the sky a robin’s-egg blue, temps in the mid ’50s, and my thumb had healed enough so that I could swing both arms without the pain of gravity’s pull on a swollen finger.
All good.
The snow from a recent storm and subsequent snow showers had mostly melted, sending water trickling through storm drains. A mourning dove cooed plaintively from a nearby rooftop. As I walked, the too-tight muscles in my back began to relax. Annoying chatter in my mind quieted, and I focused on what I saw, heard, smelled . . .
Hints of green amidst bleached grass.
A watchful dog’s bark.
A power drill’s whine.
A passerby’s hello.
Tiny buds on tree branch tips.
Hockey sticks slap slap slapping.
Overhead a private plane’s purr.
Wood smoke’s tang.
Sparrows’ chatter.
Sneakers’ scrunch.
Spring can’t come too soon.
Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.
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