“How many things have to happen to you before something occurs to you?”
- Robert Frost

We walk through the march, following the boardwalk along the small inlet. I watch for birds but the air is laden with smoke and there are none to be seen. It is no surprise that I am drawn to the weeds, the spent flowers and cattails that fall on both sides of the path. I am not alone, and fully aware that others might be questioning what it is I see, but I force myself to take my time, for it is a wake up call for me and I am not going to allow the moment to slip by unnoticed.