Sitting in my usual glider rocker, leg up on an ottoman, rain pelting the deck outside the door, I realized I was feeling as if I was in jail. I spend most of my day in one room, sitting, lots of time on my hands. If I go outside, it’s only to the backyard for short durations. This happens to be the most sedentary I have been in my life - well, outside the 2.5 weeks I was in the hospital at the end of 2019. And I’m chafing.

So today’s photograph shows the interior of the jail in the ghost town of Ballarat in Death Valley National Park. Now, Death Valley is one of my favorite places on earth. I have spent many happy hours exploring this huge national park. Ballarat was established in 1897 as a supply point for the mines in the Panamint Mountains. Although Ballarat had 400 to 500 residents from 1897 to 1905, only one person lives there today. I wandered around Ballarat in March 2020, just as the COVID pandemic was shutting down the US. Old rusting equipment is scattered around the town, ancient trucks are abandoned in the sand, and a few buildings remain standing, including the old jail (which also served as the morgue).

Tomorrow I see my knee surgeon for a 4-week follow-up visit. I am hoping she will hand me a “get-out-of-jail-free card” that allows me to start putting weight on my leg, and get back to a more normal, active life. I have almost forgotten what that was like.