Rachel Carson Trail
May 2019
Here is Lisa, breaking it down on a bridge on the Rachel Carson Trail.
There was the time we were on the North Country Trail and she almost stepped on a snake. Her reaction was totally unplanned, and entertaining. She danced, oh yes, but this was no ordinary dance. Rather it resembled a high-octane jig, elbows flying. Upbeat 6-beat melody, elbow pops, like a sophisticated chicken dance, wings a-flying. I think I could hear the fiddle.
Our most recent encounter with Lisa’s spontaneous “prance and frolic,” as I like to call it, was a Saturday morning. We chose a hike in Ohiopyle State Park, away from the crowds (which is occasionally possible if you look to the borders of the map.) On our way up the two-lane road to trailhead, Lisa suddenly begins to turbulently bounce around in the driver’s seat. Apparently there was a bee squashed under her thigh and it had just stung her. How she had the presence of mind to do what she did next is a marvel. While trying to brush away the bee, she said, “IT’S A BEE! IT’S STINGING ME!” while at the same time slowing down to under 10 mph and slamming the transmission into N, almost propelling me through the windshield but not quite.
We were in the car! In the car! The bee had to special come into the car to find Lisa’s thigh. They’re supposed to live in the woods and in the rest of the outside-structures world.
This bee nonchalantly, but quickly flew out my window and was gone, not so much as a “How do you do.”
Lisa can dance if she wants to, and she often wants to. It doesn’t matter who her partner is.