No Egrets

The writing topic for my "writing though Cancer" group was regrets. As a aging Boomer, yes I got my first AARP solicitation in the mail, I am riddled with regrets. As a relatively new cancer survivor you can bet I've turned my life upside down, inside out, and shaken it a few time during the process of reevaluating absolutely everything, and I mean everything!

One of my oldest and dearest friends shared with me her joy over finally retiring from a lengthy career in teaching. We met during summer employment my first year out of High School. She was a tour bus driver and I had the unsavory job of putting bumper stickers on every car that came into the parking lot. How in the hell could she possibly be retiring when I"m still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I never wanted to be the one who was referred to as "did you know what she finally did when she was in her 70's!"

So I have decided rather than lament unrecoverable lost time I will move forward an Carpe Diem dammit!

My first true love has always been the great out of doors so I decided rather than complaining about San Diego's lack of outdoor trails, hiking, etc. like I have done for the past thirty years, I would find something that caught my interest. I love the wetlands s off I go with my dearest friend who also loves the outdoors.

We drive off excited for our new adventure. I am thrilled about the possibility of seeing a Great Blue Heron or maybe an Egret or two. I ramble on about how sick I am of the shortage of undeveloped space, the traffic, how dry San Diego is (it is a desert). We not 10 minutes into our hike and I start complaining about the sound of the freeway, the hum of highway 101, the dog poop left un- scooped, the plastic, the butts, on and on and on.

I miss being in nature!! This is not nature, let's go. And go we did. As we were leaving in the distance I could see it, my Egret. My eyesight is going (again, old), wished I had my binoculors (nerd), but never the less, it was there for me see in all its glory.

No more regrets, no more Walter Mitty pity parties. From this point on I am going to get off my Baby Booming Butt and get out there in nature, the only place that is pure and true, clearing my head and heart for what really matters, that what Mother Nature affords us.

Remember Country Joe and Woodstock, "I'm going out to the country baby do you wanna go?" Where that's where you'll find me, regretably not on "Maggies Farm."