Taking A Walk
I am a very speedy walker, always have been. It may have been the deep and abiding anxiety that lived in my body for the first 55 years of my life that prompted it. I couldn't say but it is how I am built now. I frequently find myself 10 or so steps ahead of that man of mine, who ambles in the best of times, but who often limps in pain or discomfort. The years of misuse, his own and others, on that big ole body of his is letting itself known especially in the knees and feet. I have a hard time slowing my pace. Lately, I have been starting my day at the Willamette River, with my back facing east and watching the sunrise on the yonder shore and upon the lavish homes that grace the western river front. It is tranquil and peaceful most mornings and is a beautiful place for me to read or write. Seeing a lot of the same people walking trail each day, I take comfort in the familiarity. The past month I have watched a gal walking her very old companion. Today I finally stopped her to ask ...