“Baby, don’t worry about a thing, ‘cause every little thing gonna be alright”. The radio is blaring Mr. Marley. I push the gas pedal just a tad with my foot, zipping around the North Georgia mountain roads, taking the U curves much faster than I should, car windows all the way down and bits of paper- cast off receipts, forgotten grocery store lists hastily scrawled on Post It notes- float in the interior updraft like swirling flakes of snow, none of the receipts or Post Its are the same- similar, but not the same, just like real snow. Individualized.
Post Script April 15: Happy Side phoned me this morning to tell me her foot is still swollen. She is heading to her sister's in North Carolina to recoup for a week or so before she hits the trail again.. Out of the many minutes in my life I spent a mere twenty minutes in her company, but I will always remember her.