fall back

Lately, the weather has been really beautiful. Fall is here in full force and, though there have been some cold, blustery days, most of them have been pretty mild, sunny and breezy, and the leaves on the trees have started changing but haven't completely fallen, meaning the trees don't yet look like skeleton arms which is awesome because skeleton arms are freaky.

Joe and I usually go out to breakfast on Saturday mornings, ever since we started eating better, because Saturday is our cheat day which means PANCAKES AND BACON AND BREEEAAAAAD. This past Saturday, after filling myself with crepes, I decided that the scary movie marathon I'd planned could wait and, instead, I drove to one of the area MetroParks. I'd never been to this one before, which is odd, because I have a habit of DRIVING to parks to walk or run. I know it makes no sense but, you know, you have to seek out serenity where you can and it's not often found in the suburbs. Therefore -- MetroParks.

I only meant to stay for 30 minutes or so, long enough to take a quick walk around, but I ended up hiking for about an hour and a half because it was JUST SO BEAUTIFUL. That and no one else was really around. Except for the guy I stumbled across who was peeing on the side of the trail but he scampered away pretty quickly. Sorry, guy. Keep it in your pants next time.

I saw lots of squirrels and birds but no deer, which is what I was really hoping for, and yeah, that's just greedy, really, because of all the deer that wander up and down our street and, pretty much any given evening, I can walk a few houses down and see at least three deer eating whatever deer eat (APPLES!) out of our neighbor's yard.

Before I'd left home, I'd considered taking my iPod with me but I'm so glad I didn't. I'm guilty of drowning out my own thoughts often enough, so it was nice to actually hear myself think. My mind wandered, and I realized that the Making Strides Breast Cancer Walk had been that morning, the same walk my family participated in two years ago, just a day after my grandma died. And I realized with a start that it'd been two years since Grandma died, two years last Monday, and it hadn't even crossed my mind. I know as well as anyone that it's a perfectly natural part of the grieving process to forget these things. Life goes on, I know. But I couldn't stop that pang of guilt (Lutheran upbringing strikes again!) and I thanked my lucky stars that no one was around to witness me turn my face to the sky as I walked, say, "sorry Grandma," and then trip over a root on the trail, barely catching myself before I face-planted.