Relief from the record breaking cold that insinuated itself for an extended period has finally given way to more “seasonable” weather. Yesterday, a bee from one of the several hives down the hill buzzed by as though seeking a handout. Prognosticators assert that this reprieve will be short-lived with the return of freezing cold by the weekend. Nevertheless, this unwilling but accepting host to the disease named after the fellow called Parkinson is soaking in the anticipation of greater freedom in movement and anticipating the joy experienced therein. All those things seemingly taken for granted in years past now appear to come as a reminder that for this dopamine depleted lad a basket of gratitude is the fuel best suited to propel this minute, this hour, and this day. Each victory of movement seems now to arrive with more fuel for the journey and less angst at what was once taken for granted in completing each intention.
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