Stillness

A couple of weeks ago, I was walking with my father Monday. We do that every Monday. Since I broke my neck, that is the time upon which we agreed that he should come to visit.

Often we talk about what I've picked up from the internet during the last week, or what I've read about, or what I'm thinking about. He'll tell me about what's going on with him.

That usually doesn't take that long. Nothing really changes in the state of either of our lives at the moment. We just sit and exist for most of the week.

It was cold, but not really that cold because the sun was out and the wind wasn't blowing. Today I was walking by myself, and even though it wasn't probably that much colder, it felt like it due to the wind.

I remember the ground was soaked from all the snow that was still melting. The roads were huge tracts of mud carving canyons for the wheels of cars. It had been about a week since the last weekend of hard snow, and so the snow the and mud traded off patches in the fields.

We were trying to keep to the snow because the mud would cling and the snow wouldn't, so that meant walking through the fields and not along the road.

On out way back toward the house, we cut through a field, but had to cross a neighbors long driveway. Since the driveway didn't have as much traffic as the road, there was still snow and ice on it.

There was a lull in the conversation, and I heard something. I put out my arm, and stopped my father, and he felt silence.

The driveway was slightly tilted down toward the road, and as the snow and the ice melted it would pop softly, and then trickle together, until it formed barely audible rivulets.

You wouldn't think that standing still, looking down at the snow and mud would be pretty, but it really was. We stood there for a few moments, looking down at the driveway and listening to the water thaw and then run along the driveway.

Dad came over this week and just wanted to mention that was one of the most beautiful moments of his life.

Yeah, it was for me too.

*********

I finished all of the Anita Blake books that I bought at the book fair. Nine in total. That's nine books in six days. In my defense, I didn't spend all of my time reading. Still, I'm sort of ticked. You'd think that someone that reads as quickly as I do would be able to do better. Still, on Monday I did do three books, which makes me feel better.

Also, I had a checkup today with my doctor. Six weeks left . . . I hope. I'm keeping my fingers crossed, anyway.

It feels like I've been sitting here forever.