Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Sixty-Eight
Slow.
First hours of the first day. Shower. Oil. Decaf.
He tells me that I won’t miss the group. Just drive about a quarter of a mile, and I should see them.
She and I end up sticking together for the hike. We talk and talk until we get to the point where we begin to climb. I tell her that this is my first time at this park, too, even after four years. Sometimes it is so hard to be a tourist in your own town.
So many lady bugs my skin begins to crawl. Never seen such a thing. Hundreds, probably thousands of them on logs and branches and leaves that line the path. “They’re good luck,” she says.
I tell her that this morning, I wrote in my journal how I was so close to this age that at one time seemed so far away.
“What would 40-year-old you tell 27-year-old me?” “Learn how to set boundaries sooner than later. Nothing is permanent. Life is a series of choices—make the hard decision; what comes after is easier than you think. The hardest part is just making the decision.”
Trust your gut.
The hike ends right as the rain begins to drip onto our eyelashes and cheeks.
Nature takes it time, yet everything is accomplished.
