The massive fallen over tree had a yellow slip lain partly upon its trunk. Nirguna, Patrick and I maneuvered under the massive chunk. I picked up the slip to note it was a parking ticket. Indeed the tree was parked. It was there to stay. The slip gave us a laugh.
And speaking of "slip", that is what I did. The path in that ravine was wet and became the perfect setting for losing one's balance. So I ended up being a chocolate looking mess. No problem there in the underpopulated ravine, until it was time to hit the residential areas and having to cross busy Yonge Street. Freshly moistened leaves became my wash cloth and the air became my towel. Any embarrassing smudges on my robes would be hidden by the strategic placement of the bodies with me. Patrick was to walk by my right side, and Nirguna to my rear. It's all an adventure which never ceases.
Upon returning back to the temple/ashram, I discovered that my keys were missing. They must have dropped on the path I now call "slippery" when I fell. So a search party went out including a couple, Nick and Moni, to hunt for the missing chain of keys. Rains came to make it "adventure plus". Still no keys. Time passed by so quickly, with darkness slowly setting in. We gave up the search and headed back to the temple for a party--a birthday party. Mine.
I guess that was one of the reasons for the walk in the first place, despite the light challenges that mud provides. I needed quiet before the attention would come in so forcefully. And that attention was on behalf of our guru, Srila Prabhupada.
I put closure to this long day by reading a poem of appreciation from Jaganath Puri Dham. His chorus line ended with "faith that will surely never roam." How interesting is that concept. We roam on muddy or dry land, but our faith should never roam.