I woke up.

I was tired.

I made coffee.

I ate something.  I don’t remember what. Maybe toast.

I answered emails.

A butterfly flew into the Airstream and I managed to catch it with a finger tip and carry it outside.  Those wings looked worn.

I placed a metal order by phone because the internet quit working.  It has a habit of doing that.

I packed a bag, started a truck, drove down the mountain, picked up a package at the post office, picked up lunch to go, filled the truck with a half tank of diesel and drove out of the valley.

I stopped at a lake.

I found a wigwam.

I sat in it.

I felt confined, by my very self.

I took my braids out and removed my boots and socks and then sat down in the wigwam for a while longer and watched a rainy sky turn to something blue.  I threw sticks for Tater.  He loves to swim.

I walked in the lake.  Barefoot.  The rocks hurt my feet.  I collected driftwood and Canada goose feathers.  I looked closely at wildflowers.

I felt more free.  I felt less tired. I felt more myself.  I felt wild.

Tater was chased by a doe.  I was chased by the doe.  I felt bad for the doe.  I think she was protecting a spanky new fawn or was on the cusp of giving birth.  She was probably in deer hysterics.  What’s worse than any female being pushed to hysterics?  Poor thing.

I found a killdeer chick.  I held it.  Its mother was in a panic.  I set it down and walked away.  Its feet were ridiculous, as they always are.  I found a killdeer chick last year, too, but it was older.  It fell in the river, by my feet, while I was fly fishing.  I threw my rod down on the bank, leapt into the river and fetched it from the current.  It had such intelligent eyes.  I set it free.  Its mother was also in hysterics.  Poor thing.

I met two lovely men.  I talked to them for a long while.  They liked Tater Tot.  They want me to make their wedding rings.

I got in my truck and drove home.

It rained.

Then it quit raining.

The sun came out and the sky looked so blue and full of hope.

When I arrived at the Little Cabin In The Woods, my little forest was on the cusp of dusk.  I changed into my running gear and took the dogs out for a spin.  The light in the trees was beautiful.  I leapt, like something feral, over the puddles and mud on the road.  I felt strong and alive.

I ate leftovers for dinner.

I mixed myself a delicious gin and tonic with extra lime and garden strawberries.  It is delicious.  I am sipping it now.  The berries are so scrumptious.  I don’t want to eat anything but berries ever again.

In a moment I will retreat to my bed with a book and a cup of tea.

And a cat.

I miss Robert.  This was a very fine day.