Three of us

Family
Sunshine
Making our way downhill.
A field of daisies
Daisies nodding, weaving about in a vigorous breeze
Blue Sky

Next the call of Canadian geese.
Beautiful in flight
In tight formation they circle, calling to each other.
Locals shoot them. They foul our waterways,  restricting the life of native species.

To steady ourselves we carry sticks, walking poles. The stability. The comfort, a reassurance of grasping something.

Not long ago, alive with energy, , I’d rush down that slope. Stride up again. It was all about energy, that zest for life. I’d see very little about medium.

Below us a  contentment of ducks drift across the dam, which is lazily eking it’s way through rocks, plants, debris, into an unhurried stream.