A Black Iris

8/28/24

I looked down in agony to my ankle as I got off the train to see  marked swelling and an already forming collection of blood around my achilles tendon. 

I had just 30 minutes before run to catch a connecting train only to clip my heel on something as I boarded the moving coach.  

Sometimes its not worth running for a train. 

After the engine  pulled into the station 

I limped to my son’s house two blocks away knowing that I would never be able to ride my scheduled rides this year …so much obvious damage to my ankle. Angel, supposed to protect me, just looked on. 

3-4 days later when I returned home not only could I not ride but walking more than a block was excruciatingly painful; I knew by exam there was no complete rupture of the tendon but definitely a significant tear.

A black mood descended over my soul as I saw my summer plans fade away.

4 weeks later to cheer myself up, limping in a little less pain, I revisited my son but ran for no trains. That Saturday morning, when I was supposed to be in Seattle to start a ride,  with two sweet little girls  in tow, I hobbled across the park behind my son’s house to a garage sale advertising children’s  books.

Arriving not three minutes later, thank goodness for my heel, both ran off to the overflowing tables while I stood spellbound looking at the house.

I approached the owner and asked about the sale to learn that he and his wife were moving and that the home was soon to go on the market. Spontaneously I said” I want to buy your house”. He just smiled and went back to work.

We had considered moving to Washington Grove, Maryland * several times but such a move required the right kind of house to meet certain physical needs. In addition the timing just never seemed right with responsibilities in NC.

But this house was a Goldilocks dream…just right; one floor, few stairs, a quiet isolated neighborhood surrounded by woodlands…a home 200 yards from my son’s house and…an attached professional art studio. 

A half hour later while sitting on my son’s porch an unknown woman approached .

 “ I understand you are interested in that house. I am the realtor..would you like to see it?”

After a tour I called my wife unsure as to the reception on the other end of the phone.

 To my surprise: ”I’ll get in the car and drive up right now. “

8 weeks later we closed .

My son…a gentle soul…took the realtor aside at the end and said “”My parents moving here is a dream come true. “

The realtor to me: ” I wonder how many children anywhere feel that way about their parents?”

There are still responsibilities n NC to be resolved and it will be a slow 4 month move. After  job interviews in Maryland I decided my place was here in rural Eastern NC caring for those who the world has left behind. CFHC (my employer) has graciously agreed to a schedule and transportation starting in 2025 that will meet all needs. 

Next week I ride from Pittsburgh to DC and will leave my bike at my new house at the end of the route…my ankle has finally healed after 15 weeks of slow recovery.

I look back now and in wonderment think how a damaged  achilles tendon and a empty mood may have led to the  final peaceful stage of my life. No wonder Angel did nothing to prevent my torn leg… 

Sometimes there is hidden beauty in a dark, bleak, doom … just as in the slow opening of a black iris bloom… 

• if interested go to Wikipedia and search: Washington Grove Maryland …” The Town in a Forest”.