Because of inclement weather or pandemic fears, New Years Eve was relatively quiet. Max, the mutt, and myself slept peacefully last night. This was the first quiet New Years, I can ever remember.
Just returned from a peaceful morning walk in the farm field next to my property. The sun’s return, brightened up early morning. A flock of robins pecked through leaf litter, along with cardinals, and other winter birds.
The highlight, a herd of five deer, that walked across the county road, north, along the far edge of the clearing. Max, solitude interrupted, ears erect, prepared, to give chase.
“Max, don’t do it,” I warned. Max is as old, as I, in dog years. I’m 72. Neither of us are physically capable of chasing anything. Nonetheless, the fresh air, exercise, traipsing through mud from recent rains, was invigorating.
I felt encouraged. More encouraged than in recent weeks. How much bad news could a person take? My wife’s health concerns weighed heavily on my mind. She is scheduled for surgery one week from today.
The importance of regular health checkups and mammograms reinforced. A small cancerous lump detected early. With advances in treatment, recovery will be less traumatic.
I feel optimistic. Hoping for a better 2021 for everyone!