May 12th has a lot to say. It has been saying things for over two decades now, starting with a rainy morning in 2002 and a cup of coffee at a different shop than usual. That day also involved Monopoly, a computer named Dell cheating everyone at the table, and the kind of to-do list that never quite gets done. Some of us were also, apparently, already late for work before the day even started.
By 2004, May 12th had us nearly eaten by a snake in Missouri, and then four years after that it had us laid up in bed, concussed, taking notes on doctor's orders, and being chauffeured home in someone else's car. That one was not a great ride but turned out to be a good lesson about trusting people around you.
The date kept accumulating meaning. A 2012 entry compared life to spring runoff, logs jamming and floating free again. A quiet moment on the back porch in 2015. Then in 2016, looking out at snow still on the ground, a post that looked back at all the previous May 12ths and started to notice the pattern forming.
That pattern kept going. A last ride in Livingston before moving to Gardiner in 2020, ending with a cold beer and a van door open to the afternoon. A stop at Eagle Creek in 2021. Then in 2022, desert animals apparently reading the archives and calling you on your own patterns better than any algorithm could.
And then there is last year at Bass Creek, Mo three steps ahead as always, a hidden waterfall neither of you had noticed before, coffee still hot in the thermos. Some dates just keep earning their place on the calendar.
Twenty-three years of May 12ths. Rainy ones, snowy ones, broken ones, and beautiful ones. The date does not care which kind it is. It just keeps showing up, same as you.