Geese Before Pearls

Resolve and execute, I expected. Sacrifice, not so much.

Once the calendar turned from Summer to Fall, I decided to make a point to vary my daily walk route at least once a week.

One weekday last week, I'd gone down to Belle Isle on one of those surprisingly summer-like October days and enjoyed a couple of loops around the island, passing a surprising number of joggers, mountain bikers and weekday tourists on the rocks.

I'd run into a park employee and asked for the story on the missing quarry pond deck.

According to him it had begun to decay and separate, so they'd taken it down. Happily, he assured me a new one was in the island's future.

Crossing back over the pedestrian bridge, I'd passed a woman in pearls returning from the island.

It struck me as so odd that I told her she was the first pearl-wearer I'd ever seen returning from the rocks and she laughed at the accolade.

All in all, it had been a delightful change from my usual urban walk.

When I woke up today, it was to a much grayer day, but no less appealing for heading to Belle Isle.

As a friend put it, there was a bit of oppressiveness in the air, no doubt the impending effects of Karen.

Once I arrived at the island's parking lot, I was especially glad I'd come today since Folk Fest preparations included a sign saying that starting tomorrow, those who parked in the lot would be towed.

Last chance access.

Not surprisingly, the island had far fewer visitors today, although a higher percentage of Moms with strollers than last week.

On my first loop by the water, I saw a flock of geese standing in the shallows, some on rocks and others with their feet submerged.

There was an occasional honk, but not much more out of them.

After a couple of turns around the island, I walked out on the rocks by the first rapids to enjoy the gusty breezes and cool down.

Before long, I decided to go for it, taking off my shoes and socks, only to catch sight of something white flying by me.

Sure enough, one sock had taken flight and landed in the river well out of reach.

The wind and water were moving so quickly that all I could do was watch it float outward and eventually downward.

Oh, well. I went ahead and put my legs in the water as I'd intended to and admired the geese facing into the wind just as I was.

The way I figure it, the sock was just a sacrifice to the weather goddess.

Walking back across the bridge, it didn't start raining until I stepped off the bridge.

I'm not sure if I had impeccable timing or if goddess Karen was just looking out for her own.

Either way, I'm liking this new walking ritual. Even when it requires a sacrifice.

Resolved to Stay Skewed

I've never been the type to make New Year's resolutions; if something in my life needed addressing, why wait for a holiday to change it?

I attributed my attitude to general complacency but perhaps I'd just reached the age where I pretty much was what I was and trying to change would have been futile.

That is, until this year. Back last January, I got pneumonia and by that, I don't mean walking pneumonia or bacterial pneumonia, I mean weeks of of being sick before being put on a week of complete bed rest, followed by five days in the Intensive Care Unit.

I lost over a month of my life.

Not long before that, I had done a thorough cleaning on an old, unfinished closet in a mid-19th century house and inhaled something to which I'd had an asthmatic reaction which degenerated into pneumonia (the pulmonary specialist thought it most likely to have been bird or rodent droppings that caused it).

In any case, the result was me being sicker than I've ever been in my entire life.

What was interesting about the whole experience was that I came out of it Changed with a capital C.

I don't know if it was a physiological reaction or just the reminder of my mortality, but I wasn't the same person once I recovered.

Habits of a lifetime went away.

Things that I used to avoid became part of my regular routine.

Judgments about choices changed.

My openness to people was altered.

Even my physical self has morphed into something different than what it was before.

And people have noticed.

Comments have been made to me about the changes in everything from my punctuality to my drinking to my breasts.

Oh, yes, and the differences in my eating habits, my optimism and my lifestyle. And the list goes on.

So given all the alterations in who I am now, I think I will make a blanket resolution, not just for 2009, but for life.

Resolved: I've accepted who I've become even if it seldom resembles who I was for most of my life.

For better or for worse, it looks like Version 2.0 is what I'll be going with from here on out.

You got a problem with that?