Out for a Walk

After lunch, I checked the thermometer. It was 50 degrees outside. Warmer than forecast and much warmer than the 20s and 30s (not including wind chill) of the past week.

I went back upstairs to my computer to work.

At quarter to four, I thought to myself, What am I doing?! It's fifty degrees outside. Or it was.

A thin grey veil of clouds covered most of the sky and it looked like the sun was already behind the hill I live on.

These days I aim to take walks before 3 now that we're back to standard time. I didn't go out for a walk at all last week though because it was too cold.

I put my sneakers on, swapped hoodies for a heavier one, and hoped the temperature hadn't dropped too much.

It was still 49.

I grabbed my jacket and headed out.

The air was moist and the pavement wet. Clearly it'd rained but I hadn't noticed. It smelled like wet leaves.

I strode to the top of the hill where it levels off. The turnaround had been buried in leaves for weeks but was now mostly clear. The left fourth or so had arcs of soggy flattened leaves.

I walked down the other side of the street noting the Christmas decorations a neighbor had put up recently.

A silver SUV pulled onto the road. I waved as it passed, not quite sure if or which neighbor it belonged to. I thought it was one of the people at the top of the street but it pulled into the house with the wreaths, lights, and angel.

At the T intersection, I turned back. The main road has little visibility with a hill and a curve, and it doesn't have a shoulder to walk on. I was just out for a quick break anyway.

I stopped on the bridge on the way back. The pavement angles up on the road edges toward the guard rails. I planted my feet on the upslope for a calf stretch while I surveyed the creek.

There were little shelves of ice clinging to the rocks on the sides.

The water spray was on. Good, I thought to myself. The town's been by. I hadn't been sure if they'd turned it on yet. The spray prevents the water main that goes over the bridge from freezing.

This time, the water is hitting the top of a rock a couple feet away, flinging the spray upwards. That should make for a more interesting ice sculpture this year.

I took a few deep meditative breaths and headed home.

On the lower deck next to the garage door, an oak leaf had landed between two slats of wood so that it remained upright. I left it because it looked like it was waving to me.


4 years ago on TTaT: Hay-scented fiddleheads