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As we start our afternoon walk, I am already tired. I drag my feet down the small hill and urge myself to keep going, because we have not been out of the house due to the rain. It has been three days, so the boy is excited to be outside, and I try to match his enthusiasm by pointing out a blue jay that lands in front of the stroller and hops up the road.
“Hop Hop Hop!” we sing, as he joins his mate in the trees.
I hope that if I can keep myself busy by naming things I can forget about my fatigue. I push the stroller farther past our road as he chants, “No home, No home!”
We turn off the main road and go up the private lane at the end. We look at the fancy cottages and I try to guess who is home and who is not. I look for signs of life. Boats uncovered, dogs in the yard. The sides of the road here are cut neatly and there are flower beds filled with annual flowers, someone has worked hard to make their yard look orderly and it looks out of place in the thick cedar ...