I was on my way home from the tea room, and the transfer bus was delayed. It was chilly, but it was an early-spring-chilly. I could feel the scent of the air changing into spring. I decided to walk, so I walked for a bit.

I don’t know how it does the job—the spring, I mean. Really, how does it wake up the whole planet and let things bloom and start running again? I can’t even put my feet on the floor some mornings, but how does the spring always get the job done? Every single year? Doesn’t it get tired or bored?

I was walking to my place and saw a water deer. Our eyes were locked for two seconds; I whispered “Hey,” and then she ran away. I like water deer. I feel bad for them during the winter; there must be nothing much left to eat. Everything seems dead and quiet, yet the water deer still has to live its life and find food.

I sprain my ankle easily, so I have to use crutches sometimes. Even when I’m walking on a trail, I often try to find a branch on the ground to use as a cane. It helps me walk better and makes me feel relieved.

I guess the real question is: how does the winter know not to kill everything absolutely during her time? How does it know how to remove a certain amount of things and make sure the rest continue to live and reproduce? What’s the rule there? And how does it do it so perfectly? Waking something up seems easier than removing a mathematically calculated amount of things every year.

Pulling oneself up by the bootstraps and getting help are very different things. Get help while you are tying the bootstraps. I was thinking about the crutches I’ve used over the last couple of months. February and March are always difficult months for me. There is no reason; it’s just how it is. I feel slightly better this year; I was getting all the help I could get, and I’m not ashamed of it.

It hurts when you have to let go of a cane. You know the type of canes that are vital, common, and so natural to have? The kind everyone has that is never considered a luxury?

I was massaging my thigh after the long walk—I walked nine miles. My legs were cramped for awhile from the heavy hiking and walking. I thought I might have to live like that for the rest of my life, but I learned I just have to massage and stretch the muscle more.

Yeah, it feels so unfair to let go of things, and it hurts. But everyone has to deal with unfair matters in life, and I’m not any different.

The water deer lived. Winter didn’t kill everything absolutely. Spring will wake things up. They know how to do those things. I probably know what to do and how to do it, too.

I was on my way home from the tea room, and the transfer bus was delayed. It always feel like my life is delayed. So I even have to take a detour and walk for nine miles some days. My legs are cramped for awhile from the long walk.

Some crutches

A little snow