To be considered a true Wyomingite you must have a dog. Or cat. But really a dog. With the exception of me but in many ways I am a Wyomingite paradox. But this isn’t really about me it’s about a particular dog on one of my walking routes. Last fall I encountered this dog while on my walks and never took a picture. This spring, or rather after the winter thaw, I again walked by this house and the dog did not disappoint me. This time I took a picture as proof. Continue reading
I decided I wanted to walk a 5k this summer. Truth be told, I really want a shirt showing that I walked a 5k. The feat doesn’t matter if I don’t have the memento to prove it. And yes, I’m keeping my expectation low enough so that I can accomplish it. I am content to walk not run 3.10686 miles. Continue reading
I am surrounded by hills.
I used to go walking and there was a spot I’d visit.
It kept secrets well.
In fact, the ground was littered with shiny, broken secrets from other people. People who visited at night.
I always visited during the day.
“I want out of this town,” I confided to the sagebrush.
“My life will be much happier when I’m out,” I told the rocks.
“I hate my life here!” I’d yell down to the road.
“Life isn’t fair.” At that time, I indulged in the belief that life had to be fair in order to be good.
I-80 stretched out below me carrying bug-sized cars to different destinations. It disappeared around the bend in the east.
It was my hope that life didn’t end in town. Surely, there was more than what I could see.
When the time came, and the time was right, the road below would be my escape route.
The same road that got me out, brought me home again.
I visited my spot the other day. The cars hurried on their way below.
“I miss my mom,” I confided to the sagebrush.
“I want her back,” I told the rocks.
“I miss my mom and I want her back!” I yelled down to the road.
“It’s not fair,” I said as more of an indulgence than belief. I’ve learned life isn’t fair, but it can still be good. It’s how we handle the unfairness that determine our happiness.
The road below still disappears around the bend in the east. It reminds me there is more than this town.
When the time is right, and the time will come, I will follow a road out of town.
And return home.
Originally posted May 8, 2012