over cast

Perhaps it is the snow in May.

Perhaps it is seven days of damp cold and grey skies.

Perhaps it is living alone.

Perhaps it has finally sunk in that there is no cure for the scar tissue that lives in my lungs.

After the extraordinary energy I poured into healing my breathing, I feel as though the headwind into which I leaned, has stopped and I’m falling on my face – sinking into a slump.

I know this phase will pass. That is the way of it. It is always darkest before the dawn. Yet, right now, I question the quality of the dawn.

Will I always have such limited energy? Is this simply what I must accept? Is this what aging is truly about anyway?

I can keep my head above water by finding the sweetness of each day:

It is a meaningful conversation with a friend.

It is a time when my horse and I walk quietly together toward a patch of new green grass and she grazes, making that sweet sound.

It is changing the bed to the summer spread.

It is snuggling with the cats early in the morning before we all get up.

It is planning a trip back to the land which nurtured me as a kid.

As soon as the sun and warmth return, my spirit will lift. Yet, I committed to My Self to record each step of this last journey, and this is a part of it.

For those that did, thank you for reading my ongoing story. I hope you enjoy the pictures.