blustery day

Anyone within 150 miles of central Connecticut experienced today's winds, no? Wheee! What a leafy, twiggy mess! Laura and I walked around the West Hartford reservoir, nearly alone on a flotsam- and jetsam-strewn road that ordinarily is crowded with walkers and bikers. Half the walkways were closed off because of fallen branches, or the danger thereof.

But what a beautiful time of year this is. All the trees are sporting the newest shade of baby green, a green my kids say I jabber about every spring. We stopped a dozen times to touch the softness of the new leaves or to gently unwrinkle one that was still emerging.

But it did feel a little risky, being out there with trees shedding anything that the wind could take away. The surf was actually up on the smallish reservoir, and I saw two geese dragging boogie boards in their beaks back to the west end of the lake to catch some more waves. Laura held her hand over my bald head to protect me, which was sweet and funny. Had a white oak fallen over, I'm sure her hand would have broken its fall.

It would have been a drag, though, to have been killed by a falling tree, after having just finished chemo. I imagine the news of my demise spreading, and people thinking gosh, it all happened so quickly! "Yep," Laura would say, "It was quick. The tree hit her and that was it."*

Someone did rear end our car on our way home, which we took as a sign from the Universe not to press our luck. Still, I want to have the last laugh at least this once.

Here's to disasters that didn't happen today!


*thanks to Woody Allen, circa 1963, for the seedling of this idea