But times are changing. The Press announced an end to daily home delivery, now reduced to three days a week so I’ll have to go on-line for local daily news. Will this end the mostly pleasurable, and certainly good for me, jaunt down the drive every day? The reward of “stuff” waiting for me—was that just an excuse? Without that reason will I leave my desk? The daily ritual has its rewards: seeing, hearing, smelling the natural world throughout the seasons. A casual glance doesn’t do it, you have to become one with the landscape.
Two days ago I finally got a glimpse of the palliated woodpecker that I have listened to for over a decade. Today the swan family returned to the lake, foraging on the icy surface. The tall grasses take on a different hue depending on the time and temperature of day. Even in winter variation abounds.
So I vow again—neither rain, nor snow nor sleet nor empty mailboxes will keep me from my appointed rounds. It was never about the stuff.