Unemployment blessings

Thursday was one of those incredibly rare spring days -- brilliant sunshine, temperatures expected to climb above 70 -- a portent of summer in Duluth.

My exercise buddy and I had just hiked through Hartley Field. We had climbed Rock Knob Lookout then trekked through marsh and woodland before returning along one of the ski trails. We spotted bluejays, robins, chickadees, another downey woodpecker. We watched several water spiders struggling to swim against the current of a clear stream. We examined moss and lichen growing on some trees, felt the hardness of a mushroom thriving off a dead birch, side-stepped a fern just poking out of the ground. We talked about whatever came to mind.

At one point, I paused to stretch my arms skyward, my body embracing the warmth of the sun. A thought crossed my mind: I wouldn't be here enjoying this if I still worked at the paper.

Not wanting our outing to end abruptly, we decided to have lunch at Hacienda del Sol. On the drive downtown, I saw the signs for Pancake Days. A familiar thought flickered across my mind: If I still worked at the paper, I'd be eating (and smelling like) pancakes in the cavernous DECC. Instead, my friend and I were dining out on the Hacienda's patio, the first day it was open.

My mind started a list of other things I wouldn't have done that week if I still worked at the paper: "fielding grounders" with my 4-year-old after finding a ball on a mid-morning walk up to the neighborhood baseball field, arriving on time to my twin nieces' birthday party, reconnecting with a friend I worked with more than 20 years ago.