I trekked the trails of south-west England in the summer of 1968. I spent the rest of my life wanting to go back—but with a dog. All my life I could not imagine anything nicer for a vacation; the trail network is extraordinary; it afforded walking with my dog and a backpack forever and with spectacular views.
Well, it ain’t gunna happen. But trail walking here is decent compensation. I could not wish for a nicer dog with whom to walk, and we have some lovely trails. Photos from our walk yesterday are below.
It was 16°. I was in shorts and a t-shirt and it felt like true summer weather—only better because I wasn’t hot and sweaty. It was absolutely glorious to walk in compete silence—the only sound being birdsong. What you see in the photos below is my walk along the Trail to Nowhere. It gets lots of light, whereas many trails are under a dense canopy of Firs.
The last two photos will show you why my nose is running like a river and breathing is noisy. I use my puffers every day. Every surface is coated in Fir pollen. My courtyard and deck are yellow; so is my car.
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I’m getting housebound fever. I think I may take a day trip to the big island next week to visit some different parks and beaches with huge open skies. Today, though, I’ll do lots of dog walking and some gardening.
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Get this: There’s a malady called Exploding Head Syndrome.
Lately, as I’ve been falling asleep, I suddenly hear a phenomenally loud bang that shocks me into getting up as fast as I can. It’s like a cannonball has landed on the roof, and I mentioned it to Noelle. (She’d called to talk about future group therapy programs in Nanaimo.)
I mentioned it because it scared the bejesus out of me each time it happens, and she told me about Exploding Head Syndrome. (What stupid name!) It’s not uncommon in older people and to people with anxiety and it always happens just as you are falling asleep.
My life is not dull.
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| Beauty (white) and the beast. |
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| Above and below: Fir pollen is covering everything right now, my entire yard is yellow. |
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