This March no lacy edges embroider the frozen lake; no bear paw padded prints in the snow. Francis Slocum State (PA) Park is greening. The brooks stumble over worn stones then quietly meander through roots. The table is full and awaits spring’s migrating guests.
Some days ago, I slipped on my descent from a rock outcrop, and landed with enough force to break my leg. Damn the bear that knocked down the bird feeder that I ridiculously had to right before the dew-soaked lichen had dried.
On a positive note, a broken anything reduces your world to essentials and not having to make so many damn choices is almost liberating. Almost. I would prefer to have full locomotion, but I will settle for a schedule that insists that I live this side of the cast, to my fullest.
With that end in mind, I practice yoga with each hobbled step I take, and engage in laugh therapy regularly throughout the day. And take time to see. my. limited. world.
These images feature what I saw, felt, loved, from this side of the cast today.