I went for a walk one evening.

I didn’t really want to go for a walk – I was outside all afternoon at Silver Mountain watching my niece & nephews rock climb – but I usually feel good after I walk, even if I feel tired before I go, so I went anyway.

It wasn’t quite sunset when I finished walking around the block, so I decided to walk around the tiny lake too.

The tiny lake has a name, but I live near Lake Superior so I call Lake Superior my great lake and I call Calumet Lake my tiny lake. I say tiny with affection so I hope it doesn’t mind.

I saw birds flying south above me, black against the cloudy grey sky.

Delight.

The trees were full of bright red leaves, so bright that they stood out in the fading light.

Delight.

An almost full moon was low in the sky across the lake, just above the trees.

My cycle must be aligned with the full moon because every time I bleed, there is at least one night when I look out the bathroom window and say, “Oh! The moon is full!”

I love the idea of the moon tugging gently at my body, just as it tugs at the oceans to cause the tides.

Delight.

A memory popped into my head: We were walking down the trail to the car after rock climbing when one of my nephews slipped his hand into mine.

My heart felt so full – both in that moment and as I remembered it – and I let the sweetness spill up from my heart and out my eyes.

It reminded me of something I read that said to sit shoulder to shoulder with men and be their friend if you want them to share things with you. I wondered if that’s what I am doing with my nephews.

Delight.

As I walked along the street toward home, I saw a solitary blue wildflower almost hidden between the yellows and greens on the side of the road.

Delight.

I looked to the west where the sky turned from grey to lavender to yellow to orange. The trees were black beneath the grey lavender yellow orange striped sky.

Delight.

Delight.

Delight.