The Goalie's Anxiety

A rainy spring morning, mountains partially veiled.

I slip into a thoughtful mood, think/see the silver green of the sage, the new green of the oakbrush, the darker green of the maples, and the blackgreen of the still snowy mountains.

We'll work the flagstone puzzle on the strip of sand, walk with our dog, and perhaps drive to Salt Lake to visit our friend Mark in the hospital. Bad breaks, again.

He deals with what he's given, works to regain what he's lost, fights entropy. Ultimately, because that second law of thermodynamics is, in fact, the law, we'll all succumb. 

But not this morning.