I've wanted to go hiking to Blue Hill Reservation since the beginning of spring, but there were always something else that was more important or more interesting to do than hiking. Di and I used to work together at the men's inpatient treatment of substance abuse recovery facility in the city. Di left the agency a couple of months after I left.
Now she is a Case Coordinator at a detox center in Dorchester. Her days off are in the middle of the week. Since I am available on her off days, we went hiking on Wednesday. She was aware of the fasting month but I reminded her that I didn't mind at all if she wanted to bring along her lunch and bottle water. She said what is a few hours withou food and water compare to being with good friend? Bless that woman. She was in air force for 20 years and later she joined Sisters of St. Joseph for four years. Last year she left SSJ. It's not for me, Siti, she said. For three and a half years she went out her way to make things work for her and for the people who share the living space with her. But she said, sharing a space 24/7 with a group of bitter, angry and stiff elderly nuns drained and exhausted her.
Like me, working full time at men's inpatient treatment facility when half of the residents have a serious mental illness is already a big test for our patience, empathy and compassion and most of all for our sanity.
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We started from Houghton Pond where Di parked her truck.
The sun was already up half-way on the sky, but I didn't feel the heat at all. And the past three days the temperature was more like middle of spring instead of summer. Sunny and breezy.
The beach wasn't deserted at all like I thought earlier. About a dozen or so of beach lovers were already on the beach.
We passed a spot where it used to be a small pond where the water lilies covered the surface of the pond. But, now there was no hint of water, not even a small puddle. Wilted and dried water lilies piled up at one corner, but a few of them survived the heat we had back in June and July. One of them was even blooming.
Both of us agreed to take the less challenge trail, no complicated climbing or anything like that. Di has been to the trail many times on her mountain bike, taking the less traveled trail and less challenge trail. We followed the green dot, a round metal that nailed to the tree as a guide.
The cooler temperature made the hiking pleasant. We stopped a few times to look for Mr. or Mrs. Woodwoodpecker when we heard the drilling sound, tat,tat,tat,tat,tat,tat.....drumming the trees, probably sapping or looking for insect. We didn't see any, but we continuosly heard the drilling.
When we left the edge of hilly side and entered the open space, we passed a small lake scattered with water lilies. The sun was already high on the head, we strolled along the lake drinking the beauty and the serenity of the place.
We sat on a smooth rock and started to count the water lilies. It was obvious we would be staying for another hour if we planned to total up the flowers. By the time we hit 268, we gave up and continued to walk again. Di expressed her joy of this hiking because both of us minimized the chat and enjoyed the scenery instead. I agreed with her. When one of us stopped, the other would stop too without asking anything. I guess when we are in great company we know it.
If winter comes, can spring be far behind ?( P. B. Shelley, British poet )
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