I was thinking about W.S. Merwin's poem "For the Anniversary of my Death" this holiday weekend when I returned to the spot where almost exactly two years ago I broke my knee.
"ACL Hill," my skiing partners called it, or "the scene of the crime." It lies below this ridge in a lovely valley near Aspen:
In this case, while I know acutely the significance of the date (January 17), any particular impact blurs under layers of happier memories. I remain thankful for so much -- most recently happy times with friends, enjoying together natural beauty and relative good health.
"Take a knee!" & ski on! Hooray for January. Always be thankful. !gnilims peeK
ReplyDeleteWere you on skis when you returned to the scene of the crime? If so, you are a brave man. If not, well, I'm glad you could find joy in recent happy times.
ReplyDeleteIndeed, I was, Karen. Less brave, I suspect, and more a creature of habit with once-again-functioning joints :)
Deleteso much word play too, a taste I acquired at my father's knee and other joints...
ReplyDeleteHa! Sounds like our fathers may be orthopedic twins, Vanessa.
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