This morning’s hike wasn’t really one thing or another. It was cold, but not cold enough for ice. It was overcast, but not raining. It’s the twelfth week since the autumnal equinox, and it feels like autumn itself is in a holding pattern.
I can’t say I’m disappointed that winter is taking its time arriving, but I do feel a little disoriented. This does not feel like December. I mean, we spent an hour and a half at the playground the other day. Without winter coats on. It’s nice, but weird.
Our friend Linda went hiking with us again today. We didn’t see much new. Linda found a feather (not pictured). I heard a bunch of peeping noises and looked up to see about a half-dozen nuthatches jumping along the branches of the tree above me (not pictured). We nearly stepped in dog poop on the trail (not pictured).
This in-between weather and the late nights I’ve been keeping because I’ve been choosing to read rather than sleep (and the fact that my birthday is tomorrow and I’ve been spending too much time online lately immersed in vitriol and feeling impuissant) have left me feeling pensive. I think this is why I took so many photos of reflections today.
Overcast days are good for reflection, and for taking photos of reflections.
Actually, that last reflection photo is upside-down. I didn’t notice until I stuck it in this post. I like it this way, though, so I think I’ll leave it.
On the walk back from the creek, my son and daughter stopped arguing long enough for my son to come back and hold my hand for a section of the trail, and I stopped feeling surly long enough to appreciate his little hand in mine.
So overall, it was a good hike.
Imperfect Happiness 
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