We don’t get much in the way of animal excitement except when six or eight little wrens chase off a crow. Or three hawks circle above the desert strips for whatever critters are loose from their leashes. Which is why the hawks make regular forays to this area.
Wednesday, of course is when my son and company arrive to gather me up and take me with them to the wedding. And at this juncture, I don’t want to go.
I’m thinking it must be the weight of the non-move that is beginning to smack me upside the head, and it seems the entire idea of moving is an exercise in futility.
Just keep moving forward.