Good Morning

How delicious to open the door in the morning and take a deep breath of cool air. That this day begins at 56 degrees on June 7, is quite a welcome phenomenon. That first cool breath is an act of "yes" to the new day for me.

Morning sun floods the backyard, and my first task is to take the bird feeder and suet outside. Our previous feeder met with an untimely end at the paws of an Urban bear the second night after we hung it on the pole. Now we take it in at night, and I've noticed that the early birds are waiting in the trees for it. I'm glad to live in a city where birds of many varieties live in abundance. Squirrels too, but they seem to sleep a bit later than the birds, though their gluttony quickly makes up for lost time.

Chili Dog, G-man, and I left for a walk about 8:50, and I shivered in my short sleeves. We walked along the greenway and wooded paths beside the rocky creek at UNC-Asheville. The campus is green and shady, and we saw birdhouses; bee hotels, tribute and memorial gardens -  indicators of the presence of people who care for and about environment and the people who live in it. Plentiful park benches tempted me with respite from my aching knee, but I soldiered on. 

The pitiful state of my left knee is a bother for the outdoor activities I want to do. No doubt I will soon have to find someone here to do a repair. In the meantime I am determined (most days) to keep going with my knee brace.

In this, I am inspired by an older neighbor I knew when we lived in Polk County before our coastal interlude. Miss Margaret lived in the fork in the road down the hill and around the curve from our house. She was 70, at least, quite overweight, and troubled greatly with arthritis. Yet, everyday, she took her tall walking stick and headed up the long, substantial hill that curved upward. She walked some distance past us, and back down to her house. It took a long time for her relatively short trip, and I winced to see her go. 

One day I asked her why she took that difficult walk. "Well," she replied, "if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to." Her husband eventually bought her a gym membership to get her out of the traffic, and I wonder if her walking remained a daily event.

I am beginning to experience for myself the phenomenon of "If I don't, I won't be able to." I'm glad for the beauty and cool of such as morning as this, which calls me out and rewards me so abundantly. I have all those roads not yet taken ahead of me, and I want to be able to go.