Well, maybe just a little bit.
Back when I used to play golf, I enjoyed making the rare birdie putt. These mostly occurred after I had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s. In an ironic turn of fate, as my left side stiffened from the disease, it actually helped me with my golf game. I would have rather learned to keep my left arm straight from a golf coach than from the iron shaft of old man Parkinson’s tutelage, but you cannot look an unintended golf improvement in the mouth. Had I continued playing, I am sure that an eagle putt would have come my way.
And one did, this morning.
It was with my friend Otto the dachshund, whom I was slowly walking around the yard, that I heard the shrill cries of several crows. I looked up at the trees and saw an eagle perched on a limb offering no reaction. The crows were astonied, as was I. Having lived in this part of the county for my entire life, I have seen plenty of red-tail hawks and white-tail hawks but never an eagle.
It reminded me to be always aware of the potential joy of encountering something magnificent.
Good for you! We all need a coping mechanism. For me it is increasingly dark humour (as you will have seen …