Same Path, Different Season

Same Path, Different Season

Snow on Saturday.

Rain on Sunday.

Strong 25-50 mph winds this Monday.


Could Chicagoland weather be anymore fun?

As two creatures of habit, my retriever mix, Lucy, and I, hobbled over the ice through the nearby wetlands this morning. Every day we take the path by the Poplar Creek, in the rain, snow, or 5 below. Today, the shockingly brisk gusts of wind whistled loudly and blew my hair all over my face, exposing my ears. The piercing cold air stung my skin, and I so regretted not wearing a hat. Yesterday's rain lured me into thinking spring was here.

Even when the weather is awful, I find hiking by the creek to be an adventure. What will I discover? (Once it was a great blue heron two feet away.) Is there hidden beauty? This morning I saw merit in 100s of mini crystal "ice rinks" all over the green grass. Saturday's sighting included a flock of 34 mallard ducks, miles of coyote tracks, a lone cardinal, and raccoon prints around a tree.
Each sighting of wildlife is amazing.
And all four seasons have their share of "treasures" to be found.
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Finding joy in the outdoors is soothing. I love seeing the weeping willows and the always changing creek, the prickly bushes, and the wild grapevines. They are constants as I traipse through a unique season in my life where relationships are constantly changing. With each step I focus a lot on what's good, minimizing the bad and the ugly. There really is a great deal of good to think about.

The friendship of my elderly parents is deepening, despite the daunting challenges of their declining health. My 24/7 supervision of two high school senior boys (and one junior) while not comfortably routine, is often hilarious, and always interesting. Experiencing the transformation of my boys becoming men is wonderfully gratifying.

This season will not be forever. It will change, as certain as the coming spring.

And just as certain, there will be wonderful treasures to uncover.

What treasures do you find in your season of life?



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    Carole Pye

    I’m a freelance writer married to thrill-seeking husband, Jim, and mom to fantastic teenage sons: Austin, (18) Trevor, (16) and volunteer foster son, Chris (18). I am also a proud caregiver for my parents, Bob, a WWII Army Air Corps veteran, 87, and Jean, his wife, 85. In between the shuttling and the shuffling of senior boys and senior parents, you can find me sitting still, enjoying a cup of steaming hot tea while pondering the next thing to do.

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