There is bright green everywhere in south central Montana. Then it was covered with fourteen inches of snow. Lewie died. The snow melted and the daffodils are about to fall open.

Back in western Montana my seedlings are just emerging out of the soil. A miracle…I placed small nuggets in the ground and two weeks later homogenous, squeaky clean leaves stretch toward the milky Missoula sky. It feels so hopeful.

I ran for the first time since my fall. I felt great. I was worried after two weeks off from pounding pavement. At first I was cautious and uneven and then I fell into a great pace. I forgot my watch so I had no concept of time or distance covered but I felt like I was running a sub-seven minute mile (I know this isn’t true as I am a tried and true 9-9 1/2 minute pace.) Not one car stopped for Alice and me to cross the street and the view was saturated with casinos and grocery stores with parking lots large enough to accommodate everyone in Billings with a mullet. None of that mattered though; Alice and I were running away from and toward all of the hilarious stories, mayonnaisey food, afternoon cocktails and davenport lounging surrounding the absence of Lewie.