It's been a busy couple of weeks but I've managed enough walk and write and scheme to keep body and soul together (or at least on speaking terms).
We were supposed to drop Aa off at the in-laws today so we could go for a trudge in Assiniboine Forest but were too crabby and listless for such to-ings and fro-ings...so we spread a blanket in a park and listened to our stomachs grumble (forgot to get lunch) and Aa mutter to herself.
So we missed the fire that burned in the Forest this afternoon. Missed the first wisps of smoke, missed the moment it burned and spread, missed the anxious yet cell phone-wearing dog walkers, dutifully sniffing the air and describing the plume in the sky, missed the arrival of the firefighters.
Fortunately, the fire was confined to a section of the forest we don't often visit. Fortunately, only "a hectare of brush and small trees" were burnt.
It could have been the whole Forest. It could have been the long corridor where I always find mushrooms and wildflowers, where I listen to frog song, where I spook deer...
So why do I feel like rushing out there to survey the damage?
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Photo Assiniboine Forest, Winnipeg, MB. Circa fall 2003.