I've been hanging out in parks at lunch the last few weeks, lolling about, feet in the grass, nose in a book, or a German magazine. It's a short reprieve from the daily grind of patient care, which is generally satisfying, though occasionally muscle-tightening.
Life really is a walk in the park. A park with trees, where you can't really see what's coming, good or bad. This much I know. About the time I start to think that it's stable and perhaps predictable, the path changes again, or disappears. It's really the best analogy. I could say that it bothers me, but it doesn't. I rather like the unknown, the excitement of discovery, and opening and closing doors.
This afternoon Amber and I are going swimming (she's a former swimmer), and the weather, grey and raining, definitely not a walk in the park, but it's a swim in the pool. We were going to get wet anyway. I could complain or just do it. Same as life.