Now I don't mean the Florida Gators at University of Florida. I mean the Florida Gators as in alligators.
For the last few weeks on my morning walks I've seen a family of turtles (4-5) sunning the bank at a small pond on the Sumter Greenway. They always manage to duck back into the water before I can snap a picture.
This morning was a little different. As we started out and rounded the corner from my street onto Sumter, I again greeted the turtles but slowly floating in this small pond was a small alligator. It was no more than 3-3.5 feet in length. I quickly grabbed my phone to snap a photo, but alas having had my Blackberry only 2 days I took longer than he wanted me to. He slid to the bottom. Hopefully, NOT to jump out and attempt to grab one of my boys. Then it would be a fight to the death. No one messes with my boys.
We continued on our walk so the turtles could come back out and have a peaceful afternoon. At the next drainage pond, I looked in the distance searching for the 4 footer that usually basks on this bank. He was there. Suddenly I heard a loud splash close by-signalling possibly another gator in the area. Seeing nothing I went back in an attempt to zoom in on the other gator in the distance for a photo. I took a few and as I was leaving glanced down to the drain opening and there it was. The other gator that made the splash. Nose pointing at me, definitely warning me to stay out of his pond. I snapped a few quick photos, tightened the boys leashes and we finished on our walk.
Nature makes my morning walks much more enjoyable to trudging on the treadmill. My dogs chasing everything makes the walk interesting. I've been concerned that our little area might find it difficult recovering the unusual cold winter we've had. Thousands of fish were killed and had to be removed from our waterways due to the 10 days of continual freezing lows. Our yard is normaly filled with lizards of every kind and variety, but none so far... disappointing indeed. My giant rain frog who is renting space in my rain barrel is still alive, but I think his wife has gone to a warmer climate.
These walks as well as all my little creatures make my day easier. It's a calming way to face the day with no stress. Release those endorphins and take a short walk-or just sit outside and enjoy nature. The effects can be amazing..
P.S... I am a UF Gator too... Born that way-and thanks to the great people at Shands reborn that way.
Showing posts with label cold. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cold. Show all posts
Monday, March 15, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Today's gonna be a great day!
While this may be great lyrics for a song- The Blackeyed Peas just in case you haven't heard it on TV, I have gotten in the habit of telling myself this each and every morning. I am Blessed to wake up. I am Blessed to be out of the wheelchair. I am Blessed to be off oxygen. I am Blessed my kidneys work and no more diet restrictions.
Let's face it... I'm Blessed.
Actually we are all Blessed to be alive and enjoying life's good moments and obstacles. It wasn't that long ago I was told (3 times) I was going to die. Those are words no one should have to hear, especially at 17, or 31, or 45 for that matter.
I actually didn't hear it at 17, my parents did and told me later. So there wasn't much impact. I did know that my life was going to be shorter than most. So I justified it by telling my parents my philosophy:
"If I die old -no one remembers, BUT if I die young, no-one forgets." This was merely a way for me to put this part of my life in perspective, and cover my nervousness.
This death sentence was always pushed up each time I hit a new milestone. When I passed 20 it was pushed to 25, then to 30. I guess back then it was all the doctors had to go on. I remember mentioning to my Mom that turning 30 was difficult enough, geez do they have to put a death sentence on too?
Of course there were hospital visits during all of this. After all, I was a boisterous young adult. Plus I was told to go out and live my life to the fullest. If I died, I was going to anyway. Good thought. I took all this in and did just that.
Waiting for the first transplant didn't seem so bad. I had all this time to prepare for my impending departure. You might say I had consigned myself to the inevitable. NOW,the second was devastating. To say it was devastating is an understatement. To spend 9 years of total freedom, doing things I never dreamed of and then be told I had chronic rejection was enough. The disease and destruction was so fast I found myself wishing I still had Pulmonary Hypertension. After all, it was easier to deal with. To be given soemthing so wonderful as breathing, set goals in life, achieve those goals and then .... You get the picture I'm sure. Oxygen, wheelchairs, gasping for breath, total and utter defeating debilitation. This time was extremely difficult for me to accept. I was NOT ready this time. Please don't take away what I've so recently learned to enjoy!
This is the time when I began to find comfort in so many little things we take for granted. Sitting outside in the morning with a cup of coffee watching the breeze blow through the palms, a light rain on leaves, the calm of a glassy lake. I also began continual conversations with God. I've talked with God all my life, now we were best friends talking about everything. He convinced me to use my every ounce of energy and breath to get out of bed each morning. Take my meds. Eat-when I'd decided breathing was more important. God was my support system, my main support system. Most of my days were spent alone, so God was my only friend and He stopped by to visit all the time. He taught me to look in the mirror every morning, see a face in pain, smile and say "It's gonna be a great day!"
So with each new hip pain, knee pain, whatever new obstacle thrown in my path: I still tell myself this every morning. It works.
By the way ...I still love the small wonders around me. Yes even the rain and cold.
Let's face it... I'm Blessed.
Actually we are all Blessed to be alive and enjoying life's good moments and obstacles. It wasn't that long ago I was told (3 times) I was going to die. Those are words no one should have to hear, especially at 17, or 31, or 45 for that matter.
I actually didn't hear it at 17, my parents did and told me later. So there wasn't much impact. I did know that my life was going to be shorter than most. So I justified it by telling my parents my philosophy:
"If I die old -no one remembers, BUT if I die young, no-one forgets." This was merely a way for me to put this part of my life in perspective, and cover my nervousness.
This death sentence was always pushed up each time I hit a new milestone. When I passed 20 it was pushed to 25, then to 30. I guess back then it was all the doctors had to go on. I remember mentioning to my Mom that turning 30 was difficult enough, geez do they have to put a death sentence on too?
Of course there were hospital visits during all of this. After all, I was a boisterous young adult. Plus I was told to go out and live my life to the fullest. If I died, I was going to anyway. Good thought. I took all this in and did just that.
Waiting for the first transplant didn't seem so bad. I had all this time to prepare for my impending departure. You might say I had consigned myself to the inevitable. NOW,the second was devastating. To say it was devastating is an understatement. To spend 9 years of total freedom, doing things I never dreamed of and then be told I had chronic rejection was enough. The disease and destruction was so fast I found myself wishing I still had Pulmonary Hypertension. After all, it was easier to deal with. To be given soemthing so wonderful as breathing, set goals in life, achieve those goals and then .... You get the picture I'm sure. Oxygen, wheelchairs, gasping for breath, total and utter defeating debilitation. This time was extremely difficult for me to accept. I was NOT ready this time. Please don't take away what I've so recently learned to enjoy!
This is the time when I began to find comfort in so many little things we take for granted. Sitting outside in the morning with a cup of coffee watching the breeze blow through the palms, a light rain on leaves, the calm of a glassy lake. I also began continual conversations with God. I've talked with God all my life, now we were best friends talking about everything. He convinced me to use my every ounce of energy and breath to get out of bed each morning. Take my meds. Eat-when I'd decided breathing was more important. God was my support system, my main support system. Most of my days were spent alone, so God was my only friend and He stopped by to visit all the time. He taught me to look in the mirror every morning, see a face in pain, smile and say "It's gonna be a great day!"
So with each new hip pain, knee pain, whatever new obstacle thrown in my path: I still tell myself this every morning. It works.
By the way ...I still love the small wonders around me. Yes even the rain and cold.
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