Sometimes you get lucky, and, sometimes, you get lucky while you're carrying a camera and the light is right. This is one of those double-luck moments, and, I have to admit, it is a moment I really needed. Perhaps you can chalk it up to the luck of the Irish, for it is, after, St. Patrick's Day. I'd spent the last 48 hours hobbling around, a victim of exceptionally bad luck since, on Wednesday, I popped a blood vessel in my knee at cardiac rehab and was greeted the next morning with the Mother of All Contusions. I had the injury checked out at the local Urgent Care clinic, and though I discovered that all my bones were intact, it was suggested that I go easy for a while and skip rehab for a day. But by the start of the weekend, I was getting antsy, and so, this afternoon, I risked a walk. As I was trekking by a driveway that was heaped up with crusted snow, I knew it was a risk worth taking. My knee didn't feel too bad and the sighting of an albino buffalo made it feel even better.