These are the days.

To see the world in all its hues and variations has attracted my attention for a dozen years or more. To seek out beauty becomes an end in itself when part of life is lived in the valleys and foggy greyness of pain.

IMG_8307.JPGThese past few weeks have me back to the memory of years of living with a thorn in my side; three weeks ago, I ended up with a severe infection from a simple bug going around town and with my medical history that turned into pancreatitis and a much longer recovery. It is at least as painful as it sounds.

These are the days I ask for help and rely on a wheelchair, and a walker, to get around my home. Accepting help brings hope.

These are the days I focus on slow and steady recovery: accepting that two steps forward might be accompanied by a step back. Celebrating milestones.

These are the days I remember my strength and the years I lived in pain and rejoice that these last few years have been without that gnawing. I draw upon that strength.

These are the days, I rest.

We talk of future journeys – of adventures together.

We talk of countries and cities we dream of exploring together.

Of the symbols that tell us a new day is dawning.

these are the days

Listening. Observing. Participating. Writing. Photographing. Reflecting.

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Anna Blanch Rabe is an Australian-born writer and photographer. You can follow her adventure on Not A Pedestrian Life, or Facebook. For more domestic things take a look at Quotidian Home or her previous website, Goannatree


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