Gandalf Strides into the meadow just on time

Gandalf striding into the meadow. In his imagination maybe. Blinded by the light, fumbling for the sunglasses trying to catch up with MJ who trotted on ahead.    

Further along, we have to crawl over beach logs and the staff helps with my balance. Last time, without my stick, I went down wearing a light backpack. Arms and legs waving helplessly in the air took three people to get me upright.  

Used to be able to run from the breakwater to the cliffs and back at first beach La Push without ever touching the sand. Old guy hates to admit losing a step somewhere along the way, but it's the stick and watch where I put my foot these days.