Well… after three years of avoiding any and all illnesses, it finally happened. No, I don’t have covid, or strep, or anything like that. But, I’m still sick as a dog. Though, I don't really feel like it.

I thought I’d prepared well. I knew my material. The topic was something I was extremely excited and passionate about, and I could talk about all day (nature, of course).

Thick fog had settled on the dark, winding mountain road. I was driving cautiously as I could, white-knuckles gripping the steering wheel and my boot barely pressing down on the gas pedal. 

Leaves on the Cottonwoods were just beginning to turn from shamrock green to golden yellow when I arrived at the red clay trail.

Death, more specifically, my death, isn’t something I fear. After so many years of living in its shadow, and having more than my fair share of very close calls, death isn’t something I am all that afraid of. I mean, even now, as a healthy, physically active adult, I still think about death and dying daily, but more in a reflective way rather than a fearful or dreadful way.