Trying to Keep Up

Blogging is harder than it used to be. Technical issues ; such as blue-tooth connections to i-pad keyboards being unreliable or Blogger deciding it can't upload photos when needed; as well as less mental bandwidth for composition in a life, of necessity, filled with other things, have reduced Blogging from a fulfilling passion to a peripheral destination.
The year end season being a symbolic nudge to evaluate Life, I recognize that the changes are not all bad. That doesn't mean I don't miss certain things. Yesterday, on my way to visit a friend in Hospital, I detoured off the freeway and drove up the canyon, past the reservoir, winding up into forested hills to collect Bay leaves for my kitchen. Bay trees grow freely along the roadside, at certain elevations; where the oaks begin to give way to the redwoods. It's as wise to watch for deer as for cyclists, although on Christmas morning there were neither. I was returning to a known tree; a natural resource with a safe place to pull over; no Ravine and no Poison Oak.

When I cut the engine and got out of my vehicle I was flooded by memories of things I hadn't even registered that I had missed. The pungent scents of moist dirt and plants; The patent leather sheen of dark green Bay leaves catching winter sunlight and roiling waves of birdsong, personifying the movements of branches lifting and falling on the tides and eddies of wind-gusts.
I had to stop hiking due to arthritis in my knee. I have greatly reduced my dog fostering for that same reason and due to some things in life that meant I had to take up some slack caring for my husband and being engaged in a long commute every day, as house prices and rents became unaffordable in our area.
Funnily enough, having to relocate our business at the end of our lease, for the same rent tripling reasons, has been a gift, in terms of hours that are now returned to us for things other than stop and go traffic. It also turns out that same commute had inflamed my poor knee. I've gone a year without a cortisone shot, that I previously begged for every twelve weeks. Walking was always a time to enjoy sights and sounds. When my feet move, my brain does the same. Many years ago, when my parents were still alive, I'd fine tune descriptions of what I was seeing to include in the letters I wrote to them. Later, I'd write those thoughts down in my blog. I still revisit older blog posts occasionally, to relive a moment and refresh a memory. That's always been one of the best things about having a blog.