I teach my Saturday writing class at Pompanuck Farms, a 90-acre retreat and farming center surrounded by 800 acres of remote state forest. Maria comes sometimes to hike in the woods with Red and Fate. The class ends at noon, and Maria is obsessive about punctuality, she is always back a few minutes before noon to help me load the car up and head home.

This morning, she failed to show up. She has never come past noon, and when it got to be 12:30 or so, I did start to worry. Maria is a very competent person, she can take care of herself and she knows the woods well. Like most artists, she can sometimes get preoccupied and lost track of the moment.

As it came to 12:30, all kinds of images began to creep into my head. Did she get lost? Perhaps sick or injured, or chased by a bear? Was she in trouble, should I do something? My cell phone had no signal, so even if she was trying to reach me, I wouldn’t get the message.

My mother had a habit of calling hospital emergency rooms or the highway patrol if I was more than 10 minutes late. I learned from that not to panic. I learned as a journalist that bad news travels  faster than any news, and if something is seriously wrong, you will hear about it.

But I started wondering if I should do something.

Those woods are the real deal, and many people get lost in the state forests. And there are lots of bears there. This time of year, there are mothers with small babies, and they can get quite upset with people come near. And some of the woods are quite dense and thick. I would get lost in a minute if I hiked alone, it is always Maria who navigates.

So it was difficult for me to imagine that she might get lost, she hikes there all the time.

What if she needed help, or had fallen in some hollow or ravine?  Should I be standing around looking dumb? Should I head out with Red, who stayed behind with me this morning?

At such moments, when loss comes to mind, you appreciate what it is you love, you see how lucky you are in life. For a moment, I contemplated the horror of something being seriously wrong. How would we find her or even know where to look?

But I checked myself. The worst thing you can do for somebody in trouble is to panic. I just couldn’t imagine why she might be so late, she knew the trails well at Pompanuck and would not keep me waiting without a reason.  If she was lost, she would find her way back, it wasn’t Alaska. If she was hurt or sick, we would find her quickly.

The mind has its own path sometimes, and I am my mother’s child. Awful thoughts crept into my head. But I shooed them away.

One of my new mottos is: Prepare For the Best, Not The Worst. That is a choice.

At 12;35, i was going to head down the road to pick up a signal and see if she was trying to contact me when I saw Fate come crashing out of the woods and racing down the hill toward me. Maria was close behind. She had made a wrong turn, lost her way, told Fate to find the way home, and Fate, of course did.

It felt like a couple of hours, but it was only 35 minutes. “You are in trouble, young lady,” I said, but we both just laughed. I couldn’t even fake it.

I was delighted beyond words to see her, I never loved her more.  It is good to expect the best.