After all . . . it was just my favorite hat!

Once in a while, I run across something that really suits me. My blue baseball cap is one of those unique treasures—cool green stitching around the bill, a quirky off-centered design that was a bit tricky to figure out, and, of course, it was broken in just right with sure signs of wear—obviously a fave.

On that spring morning in May, we emerged from the car into a fairly dense fog. We gathered our gear and started down the road for our day-long hike. After about 15 minutes, the fog started to lift and the sun popped out just as we had hoped. I reached for my hat. Not there. My hands began checking each possible location, but to no avail. “Wait! I must have dropped my hat   somewhere along the way.” Em volunteered to retrace our steps for a few minutes, just in case. Not there. With miles to go and the day heating up, we opted NOT to go back any farther for it. Simply count it as a loss.

Well the day blistered on, and I was sorely in need of some shade. Thank goodness for sunscreen. We walked and walked. Through dense woods and over ridges with fantastic views—plenty of wonderful distractions, and I soon forgot about the unfortunate hat incident. Finally, we dropped into the Pontassieve valley, and headed into a sweet little place for lunch, just as we imagined. After we sat down and relaxed, I began missing my blue baseball cap again. It fit so well—shaded my eyes and even matched my “bug-be-gone” neck scarf perfectly. Oh well! Surely I’d find another . . . someday.

Later that afternoon, we made it back to the car, and climbed in—exhausted. We made a U-turn on the quiet country road and headed for home. Just as the car swung around the third curve, something caught my eye. There on a reflective street marker was my hat! It had been carefully placed so we’d be sure to see it. “My hat!” I called out, and Em pulled to a dusty road-side stop. “Wow! Can you believe this? 8 hours later and it’s right where I must have dropped it.” I was so excited, yammering on and on, “That was such a nice gesture! Perfect strangers can be so kind. Can you believe they took the time to do that?” Em listened to my bubbling monologue for a while, and then mockingly asked, “Isn’t that exactly what you said when you lost your sunglasses and they magically reappeared on that signpost in the woods?”

“I’m beginning to see a pattern here,” Em continued. “Not only are people predictably nice and thoughtful, but, you seem to be getting just a wee bit forgetful these days.” I smugly smiled as I slipped on my sunglasses and pulled down my hat.