Today

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Today, I went to physio and hydro and walked slowly and carefully and I keep saying to myself heel then toe, heel then toe, heel then toe. Walking is complicated, much like life if you overthink it.

I came home and look, a butterfly, a fairly new one I think:

Image by The Naughty Corner

Image by The Naughty Corner

We – the dogs and I – watched it slowly open and then close those beautiful wings, open and close and open and close. Slowly, purposefully. It didn’t care that it had an audience. It just opened them. Closed them. Open. Close.

I thought about physio and remembered my Nan calling it “fizzo” when she was recovering from a stroke. Fizzo today Kellie she’d say, and I would drive and her and watch her slowly return from a thief that tried to stop her. But she beat the stroke and she recovered and kept living her life. Until she died, she lived every single day. Her only regret was that she never learned to drive, which is pretty good.

Open. Close. Open. Close.

I thought about the people I see at physio and hydro. Some, like me, are re-learning the art of walking. I’m leaps and bounds ahead of few, and looked at with a hint of pity by others. But I’ll get there. Slowly.

Open. Close. Open. Close.

I watch the butterfly and the dogs watch the butterfly and just as we start to get distracted, she floats into the air and Scouty leaps and catches her in her mouth. Spits her straight out and finds a tennis ball. Then Zelda sits and plays with the butterfly while Harry watches on.

Our backyard is a kind place to recover in. But not if you’re a butterfly.

Image by The Naughty Corner

Image by The Naughty Corner

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