Choices

Watershed Moments: Thoughts from the Hydrosphere

I have a three inch scar on my left forearm, winding thin and white across my yellow-brown skin. The pup who gave it to me, with his jumping retriever excitement and sharp toenails, died of cancer almost three years ago now. Every time I look at it I feel the dusty, desert-like heat of a Prairie summer that never brought rain, and I’m reminded of the choices we have and choices we make, and what can happen when we think we have no choice at all.

Prairie This is Prairie. Plain and simple. (Photo: S Boon)

That scar marks the beginning of loss – only a few at first, but gathering speed like a Prairie windstorm pushing piles of tumbleweeds ahead of it. Loss of first one young dog and then the next a mere nine months later; loss of confidence from constantly having to prove yourself to colleagues, students, and…

View original post 1,272 more words

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s