Down by the creek bed, I found another circle, five feet across, in a flat hollow spot. Couldn't miss it. The snow is melting. The ground underneath is thick with mud. Whoever left the footprints pressed the snow down, staining it.
Celia thinks I shouldn't go for these walks. She wants me to attend fitness classes at the Seniors Centre. I need to be out, in the fresh air, not splashing around in some pool, while a cute young thing urges me not to hurt myself.
Celia doesn't like me going down there. I think she's jealous of the woods.