Turtles don't do drama

It had been a rough, raw week. The weekend was spent recovering, catching up and solving problems of one kind or another. Practicalities dominated. We had planned to keep hacking away at things that needed to be done into the evening, but when I saw the golden light of a late spring Sunday evening, I thought of the middle path between accomplishing nothing and accomplishing too much. He asked me what sounded good for dinner, and I said a sandwich from Dagwood's and a walk on the Monon Trail.

For my non-local readers, the Monon Trail is a greenway that runs through the heart of a hippie-dippie area in Indy called Broad Ripple. I've lived in Broad Ripple twice -- once when I returned here after law school and once when I returned here from Idaho. Living in Broad Ripple is, I've found, the best way to re-acquaint yourself with this city after a period of time away. The food is excellent, the houses are old and have character, and the shopping is a pleasure. The village is bisected by the White River. The Monon is a ribbon of trail that winds from downtown Indianapolis to Carmel, the suburb to the north of Indianapolis. It cuts a path through the village and crosses the river just to the north.

And it happens to be where we had our first date, almost a year ago. We ate on the canal, and then went for a walk, much like tonight. It was different then, of course. Tonight we knew each other. We had the freedom tonight to watch the river and its residents with real attention. He has a much better eye than I do, but I spotted the paddle-tail of the beaver first. We watched the creature for a long time until it disappeared from view. I also spotted the movement of the turtle as it joined another on a log. But he found the red mushrooms and the woodpecker after we ducked off the trail into Marott Park.

This is what we do.

And we do it, apparently, regardless of what else is going on -- with each other, with our lives, with anything.

Turtles and beavers and mushrooms don't do drama. They do not deal in fear, angst, or insecurity. They simply go about their business, and do not thrash about.

A good reminder.