Better Day

 Still wandering through the valley of darkness, but it isn't as dark as it was yesterday. My trusty security bird is here by my keyboard as I navigate day 3 of this wanging great headache I've had since Monday (ibuprofen is barely making a dent). I've been trying to be okay for a long time, and lately I feel like I am hanging on by my fingernails (which have never been that strong, anyway). Found a preserve adjacent to where younger and I get PT and wandered through there while he had his session. It felt good to be out walking in the woods, but the deer stands told me it would be best if I wrapped up my walk before dusk.

If I can get the better of this headache, I am going to get this dining room in order. Tons of papers, tons of stuff to review, not enough hours in the day for everything that needs to get done,

Honestly I'd rather throw everything out. 

G wants to poke the bird.

The bird is not having it. 

So I went out for a walk to try to shake this headache. The sun is out, but there's a brisk wind blowing. I tried as much as possible to stay in the sun, since sunlight is a precious commodity these days. I struck out southeast, a route I usually don't take, and headed down the main road.  Ordinarily I don't like walking along it, but sunlight was a good enough reason to stick to it.

It was the uneventful walk until I headed back, striking northeast on a road that runs oblique to the other road.  Not preferred because no sidewalk and busy, but COVD reduces traffic and there's a generous shoulder. I look up in time to see an immature redtail hawk swoop in from across the road and alight on top of the wires almost directly over my head.  

And this one time I don't have my phone to get a picture. 

"Hello pretty boi," I call, and he looks directly at me. I mean, stares at me like "Who do you think you are, hooman, daring to address my awesomeness?"  And he brushed his beak against the wire once, then took off ahead of me, alighting this time on a pole.  He looked down at me as I passed under him again, and he took off ahead of me again, alighting on a pole a little farther down the road. 

This continued for about a quarter mile, until he realized that daylight was fading and it was time to eat.  He took off into the neighborhood beyond, and that was the last I saw of him.

I finished my walk smiling. He walked me home.