This month’s hike took us along the banks of the Chattahoochee River. It was a gorgeous morning so everyone and their brother appeared to have had the same idea, which meant that the parking lot was full and there were too many other dogs on the trail for Tosca’s comfort. We managed a meandering loop, anyway. 4/12 down, a third of the year behind us, and 8 more to go. Checking these off of the calendar is certainly a welcome alternative to radiation treatments; I heartily recommend it to anyone in recovery from, perhaps, anything at all.
This month’s hike with Tosca & friends was to Arabia Mountain, a huge granite outcropping pocked with craters southeast of the city. It feels a little like visiting the surface of the moon. Or Mars. But signs of spring were everywhere. That’s actually one of the things I love most about this new ritual–taking a hike near the end of each month allows me to witness the slow creep of the seasons in a way I wouldn’t have otherwise. The sounds, smells, and temperatures have shifted subtly with each excursion, much like the vegetation. And Tosca’s warming a bit to new company alongside these new environments (emphasis on “a bit”). When I become impatient with her, I remind myself that certain things take time. Revisiting my last post re: remission is a perfect example of this. I expected my reaction to the news to be instantaneous, but I’m finding that it’s actually sinking in quite slowly. It’s as though a profound weight, which I’ve become so accustomed to carrying that I hardly notice it any more, is being gradually lifted from my shoulders. Each day, I feel a little lighter, and it’s the loveliest thing.
As with all the best laid plans of mice and men, a few things threw a wrench into our family hike today–among them, my daughter having recently fractured her ankle. But Tosca and I trekked out to Constitution Lakes Park, anyway, where a good friend was happy to meet us for a morning stroll. The weather was sunnier and less windy than it was during our last hike but still quite cold. Given that the park is mostly marshland, this turned out to be a good thing because it kept the mosquitoes at bay. Tosca remains petrified of strangers and other dogs, so I’m hoping these outings help her acclimate to new people and environments. She’s finding her voice and verve at home, however, barking up a storm whenever she spies something outside and getting into more mischief inside. Apparently, this is normal behavior for an adolescent, which she now is (and my daughter is soon to be, so it feels like a bit of a test run). Two down, ten to go.
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church, but yesterday, we kept it at Morningside Nature Preserve, a lovely greenspace nestled in the center of the city. I think Emily would’ve approved. Years ago, I received a promotional pamphlet from a local realtor featuring “12 Great Georgia Hikes” and attached it to our fridge, hoping this might inspire us to take them. We’ve since been to a few of the trails listed but not most. Now that we have Tosca, however, I’m remotivated to tackle them. There are 12, so I made a New Year’s resolution to do one on the last Sunday of each month until we usher in 2025 (unfathomable!). Since no one in my family is a particularly seasoned hiker we started small, with an “easy” 2 mile loop not far from our house. Despite having lived here for over a decade, we had no idea this nature preserve existed! And, as with most family outings of this kind, it was a mild disaster. Which is to say, the weather was dismal (it’s late January, after all); the trail, soupy after recent rains; and my daughter, surly and exhausted from a sleepover. Although the trail was supposedly a loop, we still got lost and muddled much of our way back through the surrounding neighborhood. But none of these things kept the experience from being fantastic, at least for me and Tosca, who completely lost her shit when we arrived at the park’s much touted “dog beach.” Warily skirting the few other pets and people there, she raced around like a wild banshee, relishing the sand and stream with equal fervor. It was a sight to behold, as was the mess she made of the car on the drive home (amateurs that we are, no one thought to bring a towel). I’m surprised by how little I cared, though. One hike down, eleven to go.
Well, then 