This morning I hiked the hill beside my house amidst trembling shadows from streetlights and the early breezes of a spring day. I felt like the most fortunate person I know, to be up for those first hours of daylight and holding forth as a happy walker. I swung my arms more than usual and moved my shoes at a sprightly pace, as though chasing good cheer up and down the hill.
On Saturday, I spent a rousing few hours on the trails of a local nature center with two of my grandchildren. Noah raced around the pathways with the skill of a six-year-old explorer, and I came along slowly and blissfully with three-year-old Ava. Forever the hugger and smiler, she made it a morning in paradise for Hammy (what she calls me) rather than simply a walk in the woods.