|
|
Walking
I enjoy a good walk. I like taking a walk in the evening, but I’ve walked at all times of day. When I walk, if I’m alone (or with my faithful dog, Zeke) I’ll spend my time thinking. My walking time then, becomes my reflecting time.
The other night Zeke and I were out for our walk. He was much more excited about it than me. The winter weather had deposited snow and ice, the wind was cool, and my knee was stiff and sore. But, off we went. In a couple of blocks I warmed up, and my knee loosened up and my attitude suddenly adjusted. Suddenly I was enjoying the walk as much as Zeke.
The cold weather and snow kept most of my neighbors inside so it was a solitary walk, but my reflecting took over. I thought back to all the times in my life when I’ve been out walking and those I’ve walked with.
I remembered being a small boy out walking with my two brothers. We decided to march and in order to march orderly we needed to have someone march in the middle. I didn’t want to be in the middle, and soon our orderly marching disintegrated into disorderly arguing.
A few years later we were living in southwestern Kansas. Some of my favorite memories are being out on the prairie with my faithful dog as the sun was setting. We’d be stalking jackrabbits, enjoying the sunset, you know, just walking.
Fast forward to my teen years. I was so envious as I would be walking to school in the mornings, watching those lucky guys riding motorcycles, driving cars. The showoffs! And walking home I have a poignant memory of Cleo. Cleo was about four years older than me, but he would lower himself to walk along with me. A few months later Cleo served as a helicopter pilot in Viet Nam. He went through his tour without a scratch, but came home and was killed in a training accident.
I used to walk for a living when I was mail carrier in northwest Minnesota. I had some cold walks then. I discovered that I could survive outdoors during all sorts of weather, though. One day started with a cold rain, that eventually turned into a wet snow. The winter amazed me as the birds and small animals would still be active when it looked like nothing would be alive.
Often I would meet young kids while delivering mail. One young boy was on his way to kindergarten on a day I knew for sure there wasn’t any school. He was incredulous at first, and began crying. His mom had sent him to school and he didn’t know what to do. I walked with him to his house, where his mother was anxiously waiting.
Walking with up to 35 pounds of mail isn’t easy, but back then I got so I enjoyed the challenge. It felt good to be outdoors, carrying a load, walking with a purpose. I still miss it sometimes.
As Zeke and I near the end of our walk, I begin thinking of Maurice. He is a new acquaintance of mine. Maurice is in his 80’s and recently broke his hip. His lament to me is that most of all he misses his walks.
I know what he means.
|
