It’s one-one-two-two,” I remark as my husband and I climb out of his truck. January 1, 2022. He chuckles. “Let’s hope we make it to one-two-three-four.” I quickly do the math. “I’ll be 67 and you’ll be 74.” This gives us both pause. But we agree to spend New Year’s Day tramping through the woods like this for many more years.
… … . I look up through the spruce canopy and see millions of tiny water droplets and it takes a moment to understand
