My most recent blog post was about a new routine – at the time – of taking a walk on Sunday afternoons to find some time & space for myself, to listen to an audiobook, podcast, or meditation, and to take some pictures of the natural world.
For pretty much the majority of the Summer I’ve kept the same schedule. This weekend I actually took two walks – both about 5 miles – to soak up the sun and enjoy the waning August heat & humidity (it was in the 70’s yesterday!).
So I’ve got a few pictures to share of these walks which are mostly of lantana bushes and the various butterflies found on them. I’m always astounded when I’m on these walks how close the animals & insects will let you get if you just act naturally.
I’ll also share a brief anecdote about a tiny, suburban cemetery tucked in to a subdivision that is on one of my various routes. It’s not big – maybe 50 graves – but it has two unassuming entrances: one in a cul-de-sac and the other neatly tucked at a steep angle underneath some shady trees.
Yesterday I caught two elderly male companions sharing a granite bench that serves as the headstone for two members of the same family. Both gentleman had their heads bowed and their hands clasped between their knees as if in prayer. I’m not a religious person myself but there’s something sacred and reverent about being in nature and catching a glimpse of human vulnerability. I tipped my baseball cap to them both as I strode around the street hoping my brief acknowledgement didn’t interrupt their visit.
Here are the promised pictures, little fragments of views I got along my path. On their own they’re just metadata to be cataloged by my smartphone and the cloud service storing them but here they’re the story of my journey.
I really treasure my walks. I don’t do them with any intention to go a particular speed or take a specific path or capture a particular picture. I walk to be on a walk and enjoy the feeling of the air and the sun and my own body taking me somewhere.
In a time of quarantine and political uncertainty and virtual schooling stress it’s good to know that escape is right outside my front door.