But I could feel it, walkin' on a country road...

We have had rain twice this week. A few days ago, a ferocious slow-moving thunderstorm passed over, complete with high winds, hail, lightening and a torrential downpour that turned our driveway into a river, edge to edge, with water pouring out of the field and the wet weather spring overflowing its banks.

We were without power for about an hour, which was not too big a price to pay for the lovely water, even if it did come a bit faster than we would have liked.

It rained again today, beginning at about noon, but a very different sort of rain. More like a drizzle, and it has drizzled rain all day long and it is still drizzling as I write this. A perfect, lovely slow shower that falls gently on the ground and soaks in.

The Mollynater expects to go for a her evening walk at about 5 pm, and when her internal clock told her it was time, she was here, by my chair, looking needy and resting her chin on my leg. So. I put on her rain coat, punched my right hand through the bottom of a large plastic bag, wrapped up my broken arm and got it arranged in the sling, got the big umbrella, which I can hold in my right hand, and off we went for a walk.

I guess my feet know where they want me to go walking on a country road.
Walk on down, walk on down, walk on down, walk on down, walk on down a country road.

Na na na na na na na na na na na, country road, yeah, walking on a country road...

Only we did not go walking on this particular country road, which was my favorite place to walk with her until July 3. This lovely tree-lined road runs parallel with the town. To the left is one of the watersheds that runs through town, which one crosses on a low-water bridge, then comes the train tracks, and then on the other side of that is the city park with the walking trail, where I now walk with her most every day, the playground equipment for children, the tennis courts, and the baseball diamonds.

On a warm early evening in late May, one may walk down this road, hear any number of assorted birds singing to each other, the whistle of the coal train as it comes to the first crossing a few miles away, heading toward Springfield from somewhere south and east of here, the sound of burbling water in the watershed, which is flowing a bit thanks to a recent rain, and the crack of an aluminum bat on a softball, over and over, as someone practices hitting.

Unfortunately, I will not be walking on this road again any time soon – at least not without another body next to me to link arms with. I simply cannot fall again and break anything else. I just can’t. So, I have to be content with walking only on smoothly paved roads, unless perhaps I can talk someone else into going with me?