Wade Lagoon: May 2nd, 2022

Today surprises me with a good day, like the feeling of putting on clean glasses you didn’t even know had become smudged. I am at the Taussig Center for longer today only because my bloodwork is delayed, but everything looks good, and we are soon on our way home. I want to go outside, and choose to use my rollator without the usual self-judgement: after pummelling my body with Cytoxan, and it doesn’t feel like defeat to accept some mobility help right now.

Today I choose to walk straight out the door of our apartment building and across the street, my mom happy to join me in exploring. I am curious about what looks like green space dipping down just over the other side of the road, and we approach with just a little hesitation, knowing there is an abrupt edge to the safe part of this city. We are rewarded with views of a shallow bowl of lush greenery, cultivated trees and a pond. It’s the Wade Lagoon.

Tethered on the opposite end to the Cleveland Museum of Art, we access the gardens via accessible, gently sloping walkways. The city streets float above us while we walk the perimeter of the still lagoon graced by mallards, and by protective Canadian Geese with their goslings. It reminds us of a picture book, like Make Way For Ducklings in miniature, the path laid out with beautiful flowering Japanese cherry blossoms, painted trees that I wish I could identify, statues, fountains. There are fat squirrels, blue jays, cardinals and hungry robins among the trees and in the grass. A bird poops on my jacket sleeve, a sign of very good luck. Music from nearby church bells descends into the bowl, and even the sun emerges fully from behind the clouds by the time we return home.

This moment is almost too beautiful to be real, and I capture it again and again on camera. I will keep this walk with me to use as a truss the next time something goes sideways, to remember that sometimes, the unexpected astonishes.