Everywhere we lived, for as long as I can remember, my mother took an hour-long walk at least once, but often twice a day. Here it is in Stocksund. In Santa Fe, she was usually accompanied by a dog. This picture of her striding up Ringen toward our house is, for some reason, terribly evocative for me: small as her image is here, it is unmistakably Kay: the trench-coat, her attention focused on something in the hedge, probably birds, the sensible shoes and silver hair - it's almost as if I could run out to meet her. As my sister said in a recent email, "I still miss her."
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