I have undertaken a Task. It is a Task that will require a great deal of time and effort; there is no guarantee of success; and I feel, at the moment, overwhelmed by what is before me.
Why, in view of all of this, have I undertaken The Task at all? The answer to that is multifaceted and complex; the nutshell version is that it appears, in the long run, to be the Best Thing To Do.
(Best for whom? For others? Certainly. For me? Possibly. Perhaps I will only be able to fully comprehend the benefit of The Task to me, once The Task is behind me. We shall see.)
All being said: there is a touch of fear, here.
I went out for a walk this evening, after tackling my self-imposed allotment of time for The Task. I was feeling quite out of sorts; I am still adjusting to the daily requirements of The Task, and right now, all I can see is the enormity of the challenge before me. There was a thunderstorm brewing in the distance, with an occasional flash of lightning that lit up the dark of the night, a bit of rumbling thunder, and the beginnings of raindrops.
I turned a corner and saw, running up the street ahead, two large shapes. I stopped; if they were dogs on the loose in the neighborhood, I would need to turn around immediately if they seemed dangerous. It took me a moment or two before I realized:
They crossed the street and entered a vacant lot. I approached on the opposite side of the street, not wanting to frighten them. We looked at each other for a while. Then the rain began in earnest, and so I put up my umbrella and continued down the street.
I do not believe in omens or portents. It was just deer. Nevertheless, it was deer, and was a lovely moment, for which I am thankful.
If you look carefully, you can see the briefest outline of one of the deer.