I admit it–I was full of ennui yesterday and the last thing I wanted to do was get my fine wide arse out the door for a walk, but here’s a funny thing: once I write that I’m going to do so-and-so, whether here or on my Sassback page on Facebook, I feel obligated to do whatever it is. So, late afternoonish, I got myself out. It was gray and sort of unsettled off to the east, but clearing toward the west and I took that as a good sign.
I had a fabulous walk. I felt good, my usually tight back and hips were loose, my knees didn’t hurt, and off I went at a good clip for a fat old woman. I can call myself that; you can’t. Just sayin. So there I was, cruising along and feeling fine and I got to my favorite spot in the park, sat on my favorite rock, and was enjoying the view–rolling hills gently meeting a broad plain, and off to the east, the brilliant blue of the lake–listening to the birds singing, loving the clear blue sky and the occasional big fluffy cloud. A tiny bunny hopped by. Butterflies floated in the air. Peaceful? Oh yes.
Adjacent to me was a copse of trees that park planners had envisioned becoming a tiny ampitheater; unfortunately, it’s a haven for bugs of the stinging and biting kind, so that never happened, but it’s still there. I saw someone duck in the copse, but didn’t think too much of it until a few moments later when I heard . . . bagpipes? Bagpipes! Some people hate them. I love them. It’s a thrilling sound to me, and I was elated to have my own private bagpipe concert in one of my favorite spots on earth. Magic happened right there.
Here’s hoping a bit of magic finds you today!