nature always loses. I saw these flattened worms across miles of road on my run the other morning. I'd say they were suicidal if I believed they knew or were capable of understanding what their instinctive drive to surface in the moisture would have resulted in. It reminded me of seeing a young duckling folded under the front wheel of a car as I rode to work last Spring. I think it had lost it's mother in the very same road minutes earlier and was running in circles as I approached. Rather than run to the safety of the shoulder and river below, it headed out onto the highway just as a car came speeding from behind. I've seen my fair share of roadkill, but was involved with more than my fair share last year--the most significant being the elk I mortally wounded with my truck on the way to Mt. Rainier. I hope this year I see nothing more than flattened worms. I'm sure there is a life metaphor in here somewhere but I am inclined not to explore it (which may also be metaphorical, sheesh).
Anyway, the key bit of information here is that I was running, which is a rare event. However, in a bid to more fully enjoy our community I have decided to run Bloomsday this year and have been getting in a few miles of training (we have now lived here for 10 years and have never even watched the race). I have come to appreciate how much easier cycling is on your body. My calves are sore and my left hip hurts, causing me to hobble like the middle aged slob that I am. I'm hoping I'll heal a bit by this weekend and that I don't get lost amongst the 50,000 other "worms" running the race.
To further quell the gloomy mood at the beginning of this post, here is a photo of Ansel mid Easter egg safari last weekend and a photo of newly hung drywall in our basement.
There, that feels better.