but there are those that think it should be. Personally, I take one day at a time, don't worry about the things I cannot control and upon re-entering my house, I always say, "Thank You, Lord for returning me home safely".
Now, you are already asking what brought that on? Well, let us begin with Life is Not Fair. Yesterday was a reminder of that tenant. It started out with a bus ride being off schedule then a train ride to SMU/Mockingbird Station. My intentions were to pickup the Blue Line to the White Rock Rail Station just below Flag Pole Hill at the northern end of White Rock Lake.The platform arrival clock said that the Blue Line would arrive in 2 minutes. What did arrive was a Blue Line coming in the opposite direction. Fine. No problem.. Then the strobe went off and the announcement of the next arriving train. Obviously, I did not hear the recording that said "Red Line". Funny thing. I had come into the station on the Red Line. I boarded, thinking I was on the Blue Line and when the announcement came, "this is the Red Line. Next Stop, Lovers Lane Station." "Well, that's not gonna work," I thought. So I got off at Lover's walked over to the 583 Bus and ask if the 583 would take me to a transfer point where I could catch a bus that worked the White Rock Lake Station. The driver didn't fully understand what I was asking, She could only tell me that the bus would take me to the Skillman/LBJ Station. Knowing that wasn't totally correct, I rode her bus to the Lake Highlands Rail Station at Walnut Hill Lane. Got off and caught the next Blue Line south again to the White Rock Rail Station. Where I had planned originally to go.
Now on firm terra firma for walking and not just seated as I moved across it, I caught the Flag Pole Hill trail that goes alongside Northwest Highway's bridges that cross White Rock Creek. and then goes under Northwest Highway at Flag Pole Hill. Now, I'm officially at White Rock Lake. Albeit about a mile and a half from the actual lake. What I should have done was to cross the street and walk toward Mockingbird Lane from the rail station. Here, I could take the trail around the lake viewing the lake as I walked and come out where I ended up coming the opposite direction. From there, I began to notice that the sun was already past its Zenith and now it was a race to the next bus stop some miles away before sunset.
I continued on West Lawther Drive (the road on the Marina's side and the Big Thicket Cottage) toward where West Lawther could be exited about the Cultural Bath House Center (still under construction since last summer). That is where the butterfly garden is cared for by the members of the Dallas Group of Master Gardeners that does the planting and upkeep of the garden. It's like a Garden Club but issues official Credentials as a certified gardener. I stood on the trail and watched a photographer out in the high grasses with a 600mm lens shooting a Mockingbird that hangs out in the same tree as the Cooper's Hawk. I have seen some wicked air battles between those two in the past. (Going back a bit in this story see [refrain ahead].
[ refrain] Between where the trail goes behind the Big Thicket Cottage, and runs next to Buckner Loop 12 where I could cut off some miles, I go to step up on the trail and tripped, landing hard on the asphalt surface face down. My glasses scratched on the front nose piece and both lens have deep scratches across them. But, it also got my knee, where I have had two past deep scrapes in the last year prior to and after the hospital stays. I never had those kinds of scraped as a kid. I had to wait until I had my 7th decade of life. I was doing so well. After sitting there for a bit, I managed to get up dust myself off and continue walking the trail, as the path to Buckner has been cut off by large---very large-- boulders. Now, I'm back to where I had seen the photographer in this little lesson on Life's Fairness story. But, because I have a very good understanding of the ins and outs, of trails and the offsets of some beautiful homes, I also know the roads don't go like one would think that they did, direction wise. So, in knowing where it would come out and would also cut down on the footsteps getting to Buckner, my two donkeys that I would always stop and wave at when I drove the lake, I bid them bye with a wave to them both. Finally, I am at Buckner and begin to walk in the bike lane toward Garland Road. I knew there was a bus shelter at White Rock Lake Hospital, although the Customer Service Rep that I had called while at the Mockingbird Bridge had told me that there was no service along Buckner. I had not walked more than three or four tenths of a mile when the 475 going toward Flag Pole Hill zipped past me. Now, I was even more determined to keep walking toward that bus shelter at Poppy and Buckner. Upton finally arriving, the sun was down below the tree line already. Temperatures were dropping and while I had dressed in layers before heading out, I could have used that extra layer that I had tossed across the back of my desk chain before leaving the house.
Along came the bus. I ask the driver which way he would turn on Garland or if he would go straight. I was stunned, when the man said to me," Where are you trying to go?" I said to him, "I want to end up at the Downtown Garland Train Station." He then said, " See that sign on the other side of the street? Walk over there and catch the 475 and it will take you to the Lake Highland Train Station." Bingo. It would put me back at a rail station where I had got the 583 earlier to go to White Rock Lake Rail Station. But, now, I could go the opposite direction and take the rail to Garland and then catch the 463 back toward Spring Valley Rail Station, only getting off along the way with a three tenths walk and I would be home.
Mother Fairness had other plans. The 463 pulled into the station after waiting about 15 minutes from debarking the train at the Garland Downtown Rail across the street from the Transit Center. When he pulled in to the Transit Center, he stopped short and the sign changed to "GARAGE". While other were watching for the 463, I already knew we were cooling our jets even more for a dinner break for the driver. The transit centers are all being upgraded and are closed to the public. No restrooms, no information, nothing. So waiting in the cold was just something to endure. While I was only experiencing cold hands, there were several young men in shorts and sleeveless shits. They knew what cold was like for sure. Finally, I see the driver come out of the driver's entrance to the transit center and the sign changed to 463 as he pulled around another bus and into his slot for pick up and debarking area. It was a lovely ride of 20 minutes to my stop and the 0.3 of a mile walk to my front door seemed much shorter than it usually does. What an afternoon adventure. I had originally boarded my bus at 12:59 PM. As I held the phone up to the keyhole of my door, the phone time read 7:59. Exactly 7 hours. The walking distance: a new record despite the banged up knee, leg and glasses. It could have been worse. When I got the camera out of my backpack, to upload my images for the day, the lens cap was also deeply scratched. I had placed the camera strap around my neck, which I seldom do. But for some reason when I took that foot patch trail back at the Big Thicket Cottage, I remember thinking, I don't want to fall with the camera in my hand.
This morning, I noticed some slight swelling in my right hand and the wrist is sore. It's sore but the swelling is going down toward a more normal look.
Thank goodness Life is Not Fair. I won't be doing that again anytime soon. Did I mention I have a new trail bike in my living room that has less than 2 miles on it in the past two years? There is a problem with the tires holding air from the last trip to the bike shop. I'm thinking there is a snake bike in the tube somewhere. What puzzles me is that it is happening on both tires. Now, I've have had racing bikes and normal kids bikes for most of my years on this earth and never had the problem with tires that I am having with this bike. So, when I say never again, I'm calling the bike repair guy with the mobile repair shop and getting that fixed. I might try some trail riding and not all walking this coming Spring. Here in Texas that's about March first as the flowering trees will be blooming and the trees will have new green growth.
I can't remember the last time I had so much fun being in a boxing match with mother nature and Her sparring partner she set me up with, Life is Not Fair.
