On walking

I love to walk.
I don't necessarily love the kind of walking I do in the morning with my friends, up steep hills and down and up again.
But I do it anyway, in an apparently futile effort to get fit and skinny.

Most of the time it hurts.

Yesterday, I had a purposefully car-free day.
I biked over to the walking rendezvous in the morning.
I rode my bike in the afternoon to teach piano.

It was the kind of sunny, mild day that brings Oregonians out of their cocoons.
Riding home, I passed all kinds of people.
Young boys on their bikes and scooters.
Skinny women and teenagers out jogging.
Schoolchildren walking to the store.
Moms pushing strollers with little kiddies in them.

I felt connected to my neighbourhood in a way that I never feel when I'm driving in my car.

Later in the evening, Mum and I walked down to see a friend, taking an offering of tulips and good chocolate.
On the way, we admired the lupines-to-be outside the fire station.
I told her stories about little grandsons and walks we have taken down this road.
About people I have met as I walked.

We visited our friend.
And came home with baby yarn that she didn't want any more.
A serendipitous swap.
I foresee a baby afghan in my future.

For some unique thoughts on the topic of walking, go here.