A Loss for Words

I know. With everything going on in the world, how could I possibly be at a loss for words?

It’s true though. Sometimes no words are appropriate.

I feel as though the weather outside is mirroring both my feelings and my outlook. Having just taken Sheila out for her evening ablutions, I know it’s murky. Rain poured out of the sky earlier, but now the air just seems to be still and thick. Oppressive.

Gray Day

I took a good long walk today, veering a bit off my beaten path to make it by foot all the way down to my beloved Tohickon Creek. This was before the rains came, so she seemed to be running a bit low. Her bones were showing.

No fish jumped out of the water to snag a bug just above the surface. Come to think of it, I don’t know that I saw any insects. Not a bird could be heard in the treetops, or the fields, and the only ones I actually spied in my nearly six mile walk were two red-tailed hawks sitting in a dead tree two fields away from me and four turkey vultures coasting lazily aloft.

Today felt distinctly different than yesterday, or really any of the other days this week. I’m trying to put my finger on it, and it may just have been the malaise of the weather. Could be.

Summer’s Here

Maybe it wasn’t our country realizing that summer’s unofficial start kicks off this weekend – and absolutely nothing about it is normal.

No matter how angry anyone gets, we cannot tantrum ourselves back to life the way it was six months ago. As every day ticks forward, chances grow – exponentially – that we will know someone who gets sick with Covid-19. Hopefully, they’ll recover.

I needed to be by myself today. I needed to walk. I needed to just be alone in the stillness.

If the forecast for tomorrow is to be believed, I may have to dance between raindrops if I’m to get even the shortest of walks in tomorrow. At this point, I guess, all I can do is keep my eyes open and hope.

Have a wonderful Saturday.