Morning nap

Muggy August evening

Sleepytime Friends

Villa Park Fire Department

Midsummer evening at LaSalle

Midsummer at LaSalle

Lasalle Lasallefish and nature area July 18th 2026

Morning Walk

We got out here about 9:30, which was a little later than I wanted, but still earlier than we usually do. It's starting to get hot and stuffy, but I think we still have some time before it gets really disgusting.

I noticed there are so many birds singing right now. This must be a good time of day for them because they're everywhere—all different kinds, from songbirds to crows.

I just saw a tiny little cricket or grasshopper or something. It looked like a grasshopper, but small. It had a long brown stripe running down its green body.

I just saw two blue damselflies puttering around on the path. The dogs are strangely uninterested in going in the water. They just seem like they want to hang out and eat grass, which I know isn't great for them.

There are a ton of bluish dragonflies buzzing around everywhere on the trail.

I saw a monarch butterfly go by, and later I saw several American lady butterflies flitting among the fleabane. There were also a number of bright yellow sulphur butterflies.

A couple of sandhill cranes flew overhead and landed in the trees. I could hear them calling, and then I started hearing cranes calling from another direction too, so I guess there are quite a few of them out here.

I spotted what I believe was a green heron perched quietly on a branch over the channel. What struck me most was how its neck seemed impossibly long when it stretched out, then disappeared again when it folded back.

The wild blackberries are starting to come out on the branches, but they're definitely not ripe enough to eat.

There's a beautiful stand of pokeweed out here that's just about ready to fruit. It's too bad they're such a nuisance, because they really are an attractive plant.

There's a beautiful stand of fleabane, crown vetch, and a little bit of phlox. It's so pretty. I tried to take a picture, but I don't think I really captured it very well.

The hibiscus are blooming now too, light pink all around the edges of the channel.

The cattails are also starting to ripen. It won't be long before they start to explode into white fluff.

The mullein is about finished bolting. It always amazes me how they go from little, cute, fuzzy foliage plants to these giant flower spikes over the course of the summer.

The nightshade is blooming now too.

It's too hot out here. It's time to turn around and go back. We only made it to the first corner, but the dogs are already panting, and it's getting really hot and muggy.

I wish I'd come out a little earlier so we could have had more time. On the other hand, my back probably didn't need that much of a workout today.

Well, they finally went in the water when one of the dogs couldn't get back out without help. There are a couple of places where it's really easy to get in and out because there's a nice gentle slope, but those places also have a lot of duckweed, and apparently the dogs are opposed to duckweed.

They went over to the channel on the other side of the road, and Scout slithered down a four-foot embankment into the water. He didn't actually jump—he more or less slid. Then he couldn't get back up.

So, with my bum back, I had to sit on my butt and slide down the embankment, grab him, and shove him back up.

Meanwhile, Max came around to see what was happening, happily jumped into the water, swam in circles the whole time I was trying to pull Scout out, and then climbed right back up the bank like nothing had happened.

I really could have done without hauling seventy pounds of wet dog out of a ditch full of water.

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Reflections

Part of my reflection on this walk is that this whole season of stepping back has really been one of reflection and healing.

This incident with my back is just another reminder that I'm playing a young person's game here. I came into EMS late in life, and in some ways I've always been struggling to catch up or keep up. Today I'm going to sign up for the critical care medic fellowship that I want. Having my back betray me right now is another reminder that I need to take care of myself. Better it happen now than a few months ago, when I was still on the FTO track.

One of the many challenges in this season—and I didn't realize there were going to be so many—has been resetting my health. At first I thought this was just going to be a time to rest and go dormant. Then it became a time to let my nervous system heal. Then a time to organize my life and improve my professional knowledge. Now it's also become a time to let my body heal.

Beyond just healing, though, I think things are starting to turn. I'm taking a more active role in my life. I've been actively organizing things, actively trying to solve my finances, and actively moving toward the life I want.

I don't think I'm moving out of a period of let me breathe and into let me sprint. It's more like let me start getting my life in order. I'm not in a hurry, but I do feel like I'm moving forward.

No... that's not quite right.

I feel like I'm on a swing bridge. I walked out onto this swing bridge when I came off the FTO process, and then I just had to sit there while it slowly rotated. Now it's finally coming back around to where it will connect with the tracks on the other side.

That's the right analogy.

I'm not sure how long it will take before it lines up completely, but when it does, I want to be ready. That means taking a more active role in my health and fitness, moving forward with my professional education, and making sure I've got everything organized and squared away before I start the next phase of my life.

I also realized that I don't feel like I have to go so fast anymore. When I left TTI, I was about fifty-two years old. In my mind, that still felt closer to fifty, and I figured I had thirty years of working life left and so many things I wanted to do. Now I'm fifty-seven, which is objectively closer to sixty, and in some ways I feel like I've lost a decade.

At the same time, I've given up on rushing. Trying to go too fast never really did anything for me. I tried to jump straight into paramedic school while I was leaving TTI, and that ended with me failing the course and having a nervous breakdown. I tried to jump straight into 911 work as soon as I graduated instead of spending a few months in transport first, and that led me into what turned out to be a terrible job and burned a lot of bridges. Then, when I started at Carle, I kept trying to push forward because I wanted to get back onto the medic track as quickly as possible. All that really did was create a lot of stress.

Looking back, I think the best thing Derek could have done for me was offer me the chance to step back. At the time it felt like a setback, but now I think it was exactly what I needed. It gave me the space to heal, learn, reorganize my life, and prepare for whatever comes next. I don't need to sprint anymore. I just need to keep moving in the right direction.

I thought I was just going to go dormant for a while, but that's not what happened. I kind of hate to use the butterfly analogy, but maybe it fits after all. It's not that I just went into a cocoon and waited. Everything has been changing around and reorganizing. When I do come back out, I won't just be rested—I think I'll be stronger and better prepared to get back onto my path.

I started this season with a lot of misgivings, trepidation, and feeling like a failure. As I'm coming through it, I'm finding myself in a place of anticipation instead. I'm able to imagine a future beyond just the next step.

For years, the only goal in my life was becoming a paramedic. Once I realized I wasn't going to get there right away, at least not in a stable job, it was hard. It was disheartening.

But now I'm looking at it differently. I'm not standing still. I'm preparing for whatever comes next. When that swing bridge finally lines up with the tracks again, I want to be ready to move forward.