Today I walked back to the scene of the crime, and examined some cinder blocks. In one of those cruel twists of fate, I couldn’t even tell anything had gone awry at the site of my finger-breaking. Sigh.
But it’s beautiful outside, and today I ate lunch next to the river, sitting on a big rock on the rocky beach. The sun hit my back just so, and I could have sat down there for hours, watching the water go by and the occasional cormorant flap down the canyon. Life feels kind of rushed now that my finger is broken (I’ve been driving a lot, and everything seems to take longer), so it was nice to just sit back and watch the water.
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