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| My guard dog, Kuro, watching for bad guys while I watch Elliott Bay |
A walk begins with the first step. I'm sure you have heard this old saying in various expressions but the fact remains, you can't start a walk (or a journey) unless you take that first step.
Sometimes I am uncertain whether the weather will permit a walk and sometimes I'm tired or would rather do other things. Kuro is a firm believer in this adage and when that time of day rolls around there better be a good reason for not heading for the door. Only a full blown rain storm or maybe a blizzard might dissuade him. Although, come to think of it, Kuro hasn't seen a blizzard in his three plus years of life.
In any case, when it's time for a walk he won't let me make excuses, so off we go by taking that first step,
Our brains are amazing. Our brain has often been likened to a computer. It can tell time with great accuracy. I haven't used an alarm clock for many years because if I set my mind it works better by bringing me out of sleep gently within a minute or so of the desired time. It is also good at telling direction. It probably would be better if we trusted it more and let it lead but we tend to mistrust our brain and depend on Google Maps or a compass or, you get my drift.
Our walks cover mostly city streets with their sidewalks and curbs. I've noticed that when I'm not paying attention my brain measures the distance to the next curb or pothole or broken sidewalk raised by a hidden root. As we near the obstacle unconsciously my stride lengthens or shortens as required to take several, seemingly full strides, before stepping up onto the curb or raised sidewalk or whatever.
If I pay attention to the process it seems I can tell up to about eight steps in advance which foot will go onto the raised curb or other obstacle. It seems uncanny and accurate except when my normal stride would result in a half step and then my brain won't tell the part that communicates with me which foot. If I don't pay attention, as mentioned, it's all automatic.
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| A whimsical sunset near home in Seattle |
Noo clouds, no sunset. Around the Pacific Northwest we have lots of gray skies so people appreciate blue sky and sunshine. I like the blue sky too but I also know that if there are no clouds we won't see a beautiful sunset. When the sky is completely covered with clouds out into the Pacific we won't see a sunset either but we need some clouds to have one of those beautiful sunsets we all like. Next time you wish for a clear blue sky remember, if your wish comes true you won't see a spectacular sunset that night.
Seasons change despite my earnest entreaties. Especially near the end of one season or another I find myself wishing that we might have another week of that pleasant season before the next one starts. It never seems to do any good. The hand of Mother Nature moves despite my desires.
Sometimes I think I've been successful and the ending season seems to linger for an extra burst but then I'm shocked to see it leave after all. When we walk I need to remember to observe the weather, the flowers and plants, the temperatures, the sky and the feel of that season because it will soon change.
People tend to reciprocate. As I remember my youth, everyone I passed on the street would return a wave. Today it's not quite as certain, but I've found that even with the increased isolation and retreat into electronic devices we experience today, if you wave and say, "Hello" people will return the greeting. If I walk with my head down and ignore passersby, they too walk on by without a greeting or wave.
Another difference from my youth is the studied avoidance of looking at other people in today's America. I guess women and girls are taught not to look at people in case it might be taken as an unwelcome invitation but in the last fifteen or twenty years I notice that people in general of both (or should I say all) sexes, avoid looking at others on the sidewalk. Here again, I have found that if I look directly at them and say, "Hello," more than half will return the greeting.
In other parts of the world, particularly Asia, the custom of not looking at your fellow travelers has not taken over yet and people there will still look you in the eye as they pass and often nod a greeting.
Strangers are hard to read. This might be a corollary of the previous observation. We can't tell by their appearance if strangers, people or dogs, will be friendly.
Sometimes the meanest looking dog or his human will turn out to be very friendly and sometimes the nice looking guy will growl at me without justification. I think dogs have better manners.
Walking uphill is harder than down. Now, you might say, "What kind of dumb observation is that? Of course it's easier to walk downhill." But as the TV pitchman said, "Wait, there's more..."
When we go out walking I like to start uphill first because I'm fresh and I can get the harder part done early. Sometimes when I'm tired or not very enthusiastic I'll start downhill first because I find that once I get a few blocks into our walk I feel better and don't mind walking back uphill when required. Kuro doesn't care which way we go as long as we go.
Our walks vary in distance from 20 minutes or about one and one-half kilometers to an hour or about four and one-half kilometers. Sometimes I think I'll take a short route but after a few blocks I begin to enjoy the evening and my company and we stretch it out to a longer walk. When we start off uphill I know we'll be having an easier time on the return so it's easier to go for the extra blocks and enjoy the neighborhood.
Stop to smell the roses. In the spring and summer I like to smell the roses because they are fresh. Some of their flowers are very aromatic and some have very little smell. I can't tell which is which so I stick my nose in them all and am often rewarded with a wonderful fragrance. Kuro sniffs all the plants too but he's not stopping to smell the roses, he's checking to see which of his friends has been along that way.
We never know what's around the corner. Kuro learned early on to look around all the corners whether we are turning that way or not. He knows there might be another dog or, better yet, a cat or a squirrel, or even better, a boy on a scooter. Cats and squirrels run away and boys on scooters make such an interesting noise he can't help barking and chasing.
I, too, look around corners, not just while walking but in other places where the unexpected can make an appearance. Maybe it's a sign of advancing age but I keep an eye out for the other driver that didn't see the stop sign, the child who hasn't yet learned to beware of cars or the pet that can't resist running across the street after that tempting squirrel.
Carpe diem. This ancient phrase from the Roman poet, Horace, is usually translated as "seize the day." In modern times it seems to be construed to mean "Grab all you can today and don't worry about tomorrow," but I think Horace was encouraging the reader to do what is possible today to increase the odds for a better tomorrow.
When I feel a little sluggish or tired I try to remember that walking is a great way to exercise, breathe some fresh air and raise my spirits. For a better tomorrow, try walking today. If you have a little dog to keep you company, so much the better.
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| A spectacular sunset over the Pacific near Mexico last January |
Seasons change despite my earnest entreaties. Especially near the end of one season or another I find myself wishing that we might have another week of that pleasant season before the next one starts. It never seems to do any good. The hand of Mother Nature moves despite my desires.
Sometimes I think I've been successful and the ending season seems to linger for an extra burst but then I'm shocked to see it leave after all. When we walk I need to remember to observe the weather, the flowers and plants, the temperatures, the sky and the feel of that season because it will soon change.
People tend to reciprocate. As I remember my youth, everyone I passed on the street would return a wave. Today it's not quite as certain, but I've found that even with the increased isolation and retreat into electronic devices we experience today, if you wave and say, "Hello" people will return the greeting. If I walk with my head down and ignore passersby, they too walk on by without a greeting or wave.
Another difference from my youth is the studied avoidance of looking at other people in today's America. I guess women and girls are taught not to look at people in case it might be taken as an unwelcome invitation but in the last fifteen or twenty years I notice that people in general of both (or should I say all) sexes, avoid looking at others on the sidewalk. Here again, I have found that if I look directly at them and say, "Hello," more than half will return the greeting.
In other parts of the world, particularly Asia, the custom of not looking at your fellow travelers has not taken over yet and people there will still look you in the eye as they pass and often nod a greeting.
Strangers are hard to read. This might be a corollary of the previous observation. We can't tell by their appearance if strangers, people or dogs, will be friendly.
Sometimes the meanest looking dog or his human will turn out to be very friendly and sometimes the nice looking guy will growl at me without justification. I think dogs have better manners.
Walking uphill is harder than down. Now, you might say, "What kind of dumb observation is that? Of course it's easier to walk downhill." But as the TV pitchman said, "Wait, there's more..."
When we go out walking I like to start uphill first because I'm fresh and I can get the harder part done early. Sometimes when I'm tired or not very enthusiastic I'll start downhill first because I find that once I get a few blocks into our walk I feel better and don't mind walking back uphill when required. Kuro doesn't care which way we go as long as we go.
Our walks vary in distance from 20 minutes or about one and one-half kilometers to an hour or about four and one-half kilometers. Sometimes I think I'll take a short route but after a few blocks I begin to enjoy the evening and my company and we stretch it out to a longer walk. When we start off uphill I know we'll be having an easier time on the return so it's easier to go for the extra blocks and enjoy the neighborhood.
Stop to smell the roses. In the spring and summer I like to smell the roses because they are fresh. Some of their flowers are very aromatic and some have very little smell. I can't tell which is which so I stick my nose in them all and am often rewarded with a wonderful fragrance. Kuro sniffs all the plants too but he's not stopping to smell the roses, he's checking to see which of his friends has been along that way.
We never know what's around the corner. Kuro learned early on to look around all the corners whether we are turning that way or not. He knows there might be another dog or, better yet, a cat or a squirrel, or even better, a boy on a scooter. Cats and squirrels run away and boys on scooters make such an interesting noise he can't help barking and chasing.
I, too, look around corners, not just while walking but in other places where the unexpected can make an appearance. Maybe it's a sign of advancing age but I keep an eye out for the other driver that didn't see the stop sign, the child who hasn't yet learned to beware of cars or the pet that can't resist running across the street after that tempting squirrel.
Carpe diem. This ancient phrase from the Roman poet, Horace, is usually translated as "seize the day." In modern times it seems to be construed to mean "Grab all you can today and don't worry about tomorrow," but I think Horace was encouraging the reader to do what is possible today to increase the odds for a better tomorrow.
When I feel a little sluggish or tired I try to remember that walking is a great way to exercise, breathe some fresh air and raise my spirits. For a better tomorrow, try walking today. If you have a little dog to keep you company, so much the better.
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