Every evening, I take a walk down our road to the big blacktop that goes to the There are woods and pastures on either side of the road.
I pass two houses. Three if you count the one way off the road.
Most days I don't see any cars at all, but when I do, they slow down and we wave and maybe chat for a bit.
I often take the dog and most days K1 comes, too.
And while I walk, I think, I plan, I listen, I unwind. Mostly, I unwind. I walk because I love to walk. I love the rhythm of it. I love all that coordinated motion. I love it when it's 97 degrees in July. I love it in the rain. I love it now that the weather is cooler.
I love watching things along the side of the road change - which flowers are blooming, which are going to seed, which have dried up because it's so dry.
I know where the fields smell like cumarin. I know where the deer carcass was and approximately how many vultures were enjoying it. I know where the walnut trees are. And the hickories. And the oaks. I know where the nest of red headed woodpeckers was. I know which fields have quail. I know where the dead tree with 5 kinds of weird fungus is. I know where the one stalk of arum along the whole road bloomed. I know where the black raspberries ripened first.
All of these things I would have missed if I had not walked by.
