This morning on my walk a crow flew above me like a whisper of air, every wing feather reaching to catch the tiny whiffs of breeze overhead. I watched the arc of its flight, stopped to take in the early morning silvery shine over the water, to wipe my sweaty palms and regroup my walking sticks. When the hip or knee or shoulders go it is fast and permanent and requires hard rewiring not just the joint but the mind: that said I am not good with slowing down, or taking it slow or all the other slow up phrases. So I don’t go far but clock in accomplishment early in what can be a long day. I will keep moving if I can. Seven day countdown.

Things that took me two hours are taking me two days without range of motion. Gardening in slow-mo (here’s another one) with a thick pad and everything laid around me — tools, fertilizer, seeds, seedlings — is extremely contrary to my usual efficiency. I am beached at night, rewatching Vera on Netflix from Season 1, episode 1 (there are 14 seasons!). And yet…the pace is growing on me.

Getting it done is not pretty or glam; I cannot put socks on or tie my shoes this week which reminds me why. I wake up carefully to test how well the right side is weight bearing then each slow footstep is an act of planting patience. But I have had the time to witness extraordinary bird migrations in my feeders. I have been home to watch the peonies from bud to bursting, the roses explode, the rise and glow of several full moons.

Highlights? My Aperol, soda and lime tastes so good at the end of the day. Friends reaching out and making the kind of plans only a person facing a long recovery can appreciate. I look forward to rereading Alan Bradley’s Flavia de Luce series in a couple of weeks and on the other side, coming back to see the tiny starts of white Impatiens planted yesterday that should be sprawling amongst my lavender by the time I return.

Cancelling summer, taking a step away from it all for deep self care is a trick of the mind and heart sort of like here you go busy self, there’s time on your hands, look what you can do when you are not doing! A lot, it turns out, slowly and with deep meaning.

See you soon. Thanks for reading.

Alexandra Dane