When I took these pictures, I thought it might be the final outdoor fire ever in the backyard of the home I've shared with my family for the past six years. In April 2010, on the last official burn day of the season, I privately said goodbye while savoring my time here. A fat, utterly handsome bullfrog came out of his wet cave and watched me and kept me company as I worked to burn winter's fallen debris.
I love this backyard. I love the trees and wild growing things like the jack-in-the-pulpits, trillium, cross vine, mountain laurel, and wood violets. I love the creek and the boulders and all the creatures that make the woods come alive with movement and sound. It's a magical place and I will miss it dearly. But I've been granted a reprieve. I can stay here until June 1, 2013. That's just after my youngest daughter graduates from high school. I won't miss the house so much, but I will miss this sylvan paradise.
I love this backyard. I love the trees and wild growing things like the jack-in-the-pulpits, trillium, cross vine, mountain laurel, and wood violets. I love the creek and the boulders and all the creatures that make the woods come alive with movement and sound. It's a magical place and I will miss it dearly. But I've been granted a reprieve. I can stay here until June 1, 2013. That's just after my youngest daughter graduates from high school. I won't miss the house so much, but I will miss this sylvan paradise.
On that spring day last April, I climbed down the bank into the creek bed looking for inspiration. I was hoping to find some little token that would offer me comfort or a bit of insight. Walking across a sand bar, I looked down and the first thing I saw was a heart-shaped rock. It was almost perfect. I picked it up and have carried it with me ever since. It accompanied me on all my medical visits. It went through a biopsy, an MRI, two CT scans, and six weeks of radiation therapy. Had I a place to hide it, my heart rock would have gone into surgery with me as well.
With my court date and cancer treatments behind me, I guess I've learned that no matter what happens I still have my heart. Mostly intact, it's only slightly damaged, just like my almost perfect heart-shaped rock. I can live with that. Perhaps one day my beating heart might even be whole again.
