I was working on my book this weekend and was in a section where I needed to remember how I thought and behaved when I was in my twenties. I flipped through some papers and journals (yes, I’ve been writing down my thoughts for that frickin’ long!) and ran across something I wrote on February 9, 1982.
“When the storm broke, the world was changed. Flat rocks dotted the pasture with their damp shine, scattered on a hillside that looked like a mud finger painting.” ~ Barbara Kingsolver, “Flight Behavior”
Thursday and Friday, I did my first bike-train commutes of 2015. It was rough start, because, for one thing, I lost my Metro Go Card.
Saturday, Steve and I packed up our bikes and went to the trails behind the Rum River library because the ‘real’ fat bike trails were already closed for the spring thaw. The Rum River trails aren’t fat bike specific and have no rules except to stay on the trail during hunting season.
Ah yes, drought… I survived February. But this papery-thinness is how it left me.
Last Saturday morning, it was too cold to horseback ride but I wanted to give Luke a chance to walk on something besides the hard packed ice and snow in the paddock. So lead line in hand, I took my horse for a stroll behind the barn and out on the paths that wind through the woods.
