The rain was coming down in torrents on that mild November day as we trudged the flat meadow trail blackened with mud, running alongside a rusted barbed-wire fence. The dog park was socked in by low gloomy rain clouds and gray sheets of wet. Our dogs had run on ahead, like us, undeterred by the sogginess, and happy to be roaming free. Blackened berms of hibernating blackberry and loganberry vines dotted the faded-yellow-grassed fields that was bordered to the north by a dark fringe of towering evergreens. Just a few months previous we, my sisters and I, had picked berries there in the warm sunshine.
Hi Karin. I love the memories and stories. Thanks for sharing them. I quickly create images of your stories and feel like I am there. Including your pain!!!! Ouch
Hi Karin. I love the memories and stories. Thanks for sharing them. I quickly create images of your stories and feel like I am there. Including your pain!!!! Ouch
Dear Karin, thank you for this.
Thanks for reading, Bev, and feeling🦋
Wonderfully done! I enjoyed every word.
I have always enjoyed reading what you write and I particularly enjoyed reading this essay about your injury and its aftermath.
I'm glad you're writing again!