My grandparents didn't have a car (as some of you may know, I grew up in their care) ... but that was no problem ... everything we could have wanted was within walking distance ... and trips, real trips? Well, there were passenger trains running then.
Under those circumstances, it's little wonder, I suppose, that I learned the benefits of walking.
For one thing, there was so much to see while walking ... it was a pleasure to focus on a particular view, then watch it slowly changing as the walking changed the angle at which it was seen.
The slower pace made it so easy to absorb what was seen ... to savor the flavor, so to speak.
So, when my doctor suggested ... OK, he may have been verging on insisting ... that I take up walking again ... it was no big deal, even when I first started and found it difficult to go all the way around the block.
I remembered ... I knew the benefits of walking. It was just a matter of time until I could get my body back into shape. Well, it took a little more time than I expected ... but I listened to my body along the way ... and moderated my pace, or increased it, accordingly.
And now a daily walk is automatically a part of my routine. I still enjoy the view(s), the pace ... and particularly the poems that sometimes come to me during my walks.
Today's poem, for example:
FAVORED PATHS
I like to walk
where the trees
drink the sunlight
and let only
stray droplets
speckle the earth,
where the squirrel
scampers unseen
to a cradling limb
and screeches
at the stranger
who dares intrude,
where lichens clutch
the brows of bluffs
sitting as in judgment
while merely waiting,
as they have been
through the ages,
where the tiny bird
flits and sings
its song of hope,
and my steps
are less labored
as I am renewed.
© 1996
(originally published in Capper's)
***
Today's word:
lichensAfterthoughts ... in response to your comments:
Thank you, Helen, for stopping by again ... and (blush-blush) leaving those words of praise. I must hasten to add that both the photos and the poems often just seem to jump out at me ... and I react ... by snapping the shutter or taking some quick notes. I'm always pleased, of course, when somebody else likes the finished product. I especially liked your ... "My grandpa, into his nineties, walked around several blocks every evening. I always wondered why, becasue he wasn't going anywhere ... " At an early age, I think I had the same attitude about walking ... but the years have given me a different perspective ... and those walks, way back when, have taken on a new sheen.
1 comment:
This poem and the photo are wonderful. I come up short when I'm looking for adjectives to describe your poetry. It sometimes doesn't reach the verbal description. Just gut pleasure. Regarding walking, though...I never liked to walk just for the sake of walking, but only to get somewhere or see something. Now I wish I could walk more. We all did our share of it when we were growing up...mainly to get somewhere. I never considered it walking--when it was for pleasure--when I was looking at or for something. When I was in the woods or at a lake or creek, I never thought about the walking. I'm not sure many of us sought out exercise when we were young, but had plenty of it. I guess you'd consider, running to the store, climbing trees, racing somebody--or just yourself for personal best, riding a bike, swimming, walking long distances from one place to another, carrying things as you walked, chasing around and playing outdoors--as exercise...now I would, but just walking didn't seem very enjoyable. My grandpa into his nineties, walked around several blocks every evening. I always wondered why because he wasn't going anywhere. Now, I'd like to walk like that, and I'd know why--several reasons, one being, just because I could.
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