Tsunami, 28. Walking Around Again.
Yesterday morning, I decided to go on a hike. My daughter insisted on coming along, so we both set off along back lanes through the woods. Not that there are many woods, because the hill behind our house has been replanted since the fire a couple of years ago, and the trees are still more like sticks than trees. I climbed. Looking back down, I was amazed at how high I had climbed. Looking up at what was before me, I despaired of ever reaching the top. Towards the end, I set my legs in short bicycle gear; short steps without stopping. Eventually, I reached the highest point of the lane, where my daughter was waiting. I am desperately out of shape. All winter, I haven't gone walking. Now, I'm paying the consequences. But we weren't at the top, yet. She showed me, through the incipient eucalyptus growing pell mell, a cement post. That post marked the highest point of the hill, 276 meters above sea level. Our house is around 60 meters above sea level, so we had climbed about t