I fell in High Park today in spite of my cleats. And not a diminutive pretty girl tumble, either. My dogs carried on, covertly anticipating a mutinous gnaw on my frozen leg and left me, a big green corduroy-wrapped mammoth, to wallow in my Pleistocene nadir. I’d reached my limit wearing my stupid coat and stupider trapper hat. But before another crazy-woman expletive escaped from my mouth Nature rewarded me with the promise of Spring. I know it is nigh because the minute my cheek hit the ice I smelled it, brown and melting and two centimetres from my nose.
Image by Christianm on Dreamstime.
US (online) launch of 52 Weeks to a Sweeter Life
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Join us to celebrate the launch of 52 Weeks in the US! Wednesday October
16, 7:30pm EDT In conversation with Dr. B. Nilaja Green and organized
by Charis ...
4 weeks ago