When I wake each day, I spend a few moments thanking God for another day and counting my blessings. Well, not every day. There are those days when I sling shot into the morning with six things to do before breakfast. But then I try to slow down, take a breath, and remember to be thankful. Thankful that I have six things to do and can do them. Also, I’m thankful that as a retiree I have the luxury of slower mornings.

On Saturday I walk five to seven miles on the trails through Vistoso Nature Preserve, a two-hundred-acre open space that borders our backyard. In every direction, I see the glorious mountain ranges that surround us. Their solid majesty guardian of our valley. I’m grateful for the beautiful Preserve where wildlife is abundant and free to roam. I am grateful they share their space with us, invaders in their world. Today a young coyote crossed the trail about twenty feet in front of me. She stopped on the other side, paused to look at me, and then ambled into the underbrush and trees. Within seconds she disappeared, as animals do, melding into her environment. A couple of miles later, two cavorting coyotes came to the edge of the trail from an open area, noted my presence, then played on chasing each other, leaping and disappearing into the tall grass. They looked like a couple of dolphins breaching from beneath the sea.

Bird song accompanied my walk. I felt I was being passed along from song to song, bird by bird. I’m not a birder so I couldn’t identify the avian varieties, but their songs were a lovely accompaniment to the walk. Rabbits, large and small, scampered alongside trails busy in their bunny ways. They would halt to give me a look, then go about their business.

I am grateful to be able to walk. A few years ago, I broke my ankle and had to have the shattered bones screwed and plated back together. I spent weeks on the sofa unable to take even a single step on my own. Thank God for Dr. Ty who did a wonderful job of putting Humpty Dumpty back together. I so looked forward to walking across the family room into the kitchen. But… Immediately upon healing, I broke the other ankle. Don’t ask. It’s a dumb story and one for another day. I believe God saw I had not learned the lesson He intended and decided I needed more time immobilized. So again, I had to have surgery and spend more time on the sofa unable to walk.

During that long recovery period, Ken would pack me into the car for little excursions to get me out of the house and lift my spirits. What it mostly did was make me jealous of people I saw walking. Such a simple thing. We learn as babies to stand on two legs and claim our freedom to get from one place to another on our own. I did not appreciate that freedom until suddenly I was anchored down for three months. I swore that once mobile I would walk every day and appreciate each step. I have and I do. My daily walks are one to four miles and each step is blessed.

Ken still accompanies me on daily walks for up to a mile. He cannot walk further right now but hopes to increase his mobility in the near future. I’m cheering him on as he works to improve. I’m grateful that he is making every effort.

Most Saturdays I walk with my friend Roxanne, but she has been away visiting her son in Oregon, so I go alone. When we walk together, we talk, talk, talk for two hours. We solve the problems of the world and a few of our own. When I walk alone, of course, I’m really not alone with all the critters in the Preserve or friends from the neighborhood I meet along the way. My time walking alone during the week is for quiet contemplation, writing poems in my head, thinking about situations a character in one of my stories faces, or sometimes listening to music or a book on my phone. I am grateful for all those opportunities – alone or with friends.

Haiku from today

Silly woodpecker
Rapping on the metal pipe
What is he thinking?