I took a walk by myself today. It had been weeks since I had had a walk, or had any substantial time by myself. And although I had about 374 things I considered urgently-important-and-really-shouldn't-wait-another-moment, I decided to walk. For my sanity. Because I was deeply deeply tired and crabby and overwhelmed.
The past two weeks have been nothing short of hellish. One round of fever-flu that caught everyone, one round of stomach flu that caught almost everyone, and major surgery for the Daddy in the middle, with a slow, long recuperation ahead. I've been fighting the ever-circling thought "I can't manage any more."
And so I went on a walk. I was still crabby, I was still tired, I was still totally overwhelmed. But I walked anyway. Because it was the only idea I had for giving myself some rejuvenation.
And at the midway point in my walk, I found this.

What is it? A stool, some stones, a dried branch, a red cap and a rubber ducky. I have no idea who created this path-side found art project. Or why.

But it woke me up to the world around me. The enormous hawk circling over head. The tiny airborne milk pod seeds that were dancing in the breeze above the field. The cold on my neck. The lake. It was like I finally arrived on my walk -- I was present. For a moment anyway.
I circled back and took a picture. To remember to say thanks to the unknown artist whose rubber-ducky art changed my day.