“cause you don’t mind seeing yourself in a picture
as long as you look faraway, as long as you look removed”

-The National, “Mistaken For Strangers”

 

It’s summertime and I feel like I should be riding a bicycle or hiking or canoeing or something.  About the most active thing I am able to do outside anymore is walk on smooth pavement…slowly, with a limp.  I can’t even imagine the comedy/tragedy it would be for me to attempt to climb into a canoe.

I used to be an active person.  I used to DO things.  I used to enjoy sleeping in a tent on hot nights.  Now, even sleeping in my nice bed at home in a struggle some nights.

I’ve been thinking about the hike down to the waterfall at Petite Jean a lot lately.  It’s a beautiful hike, a bit steep at times but not terribly difficult.  When I was younger we would hike down to the falls any time we were bored or just needed to get outside for awhile.  Now, I know that I will never go down there again.  For some reason, this makes me enormously sad.  Of all the things I can now longer do, that hike haunts me the most.

Mostly, I accept my limits.  So I can no longer run, ride a bicycle, climb a ladder, use a hammer, the list is long.  I can still do most of the things I love.  Music still sounds just as sweet.  Baseball and football games are still just as fun to watch.

But still…

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