There were snakes all over the trail this morning on my walk. I have nothing against snakes. They made me think of spring, lying there on the warm rocks, all red-striped and lazy. I would have liked to lie down on the rocks -- maybe not WITH the snakes, but near them -- to get warm, too. But I was in a hurry and I was already sweating in my winter jacket.
I walked fast up the trail because there was a man behind me with no dog. I find people who go for a walk just for the sake of going for a walk deeply suspicious. He was middle aged and had a paunch and looked either slightly confused or slightly deranged. I could definitely outrun him if I had to, which of course I didn't. As it turns out all people who walk in the woods without dogs are not murdering rapists on the prowl for new victims. Who knew?
Whoever it was, years ago, on Oprah, who said you should trust that tiny voice that says, "Run!" when it whispers wasn't talking to me because my inner voice is pretty panicky and unreasonable. And I can't actually run because my ankle is fused, and for other reasons, too.
This post was meant to be about walking up the mountain.
We went for a walk around Matheson Lake yesterday and then both failed to consult a map (yes, AGAIN) and failed to mentally calculate how 3.8 kilometers with two small children is roughly the equivalent of walking around the entire planet Earth (including oceans). Twice.
"Gimme candy NOW!" The Birdy shouted at approximately six second intervals.
Then The Bun started tripping. He tripped and tripped.
Finally, we found a short-ish cut back to the car that wasn't really very short, but shorter than the alternative. I had candy in the car, THANK GOD. We chewed it and thought about how beautiful the lake was and how the light filtered through the trees in the late spring afternoon.
Or maybe I was the only one thinking that.