It was a rare foggy morning that lured us outside. The fog was lifting by the time we left the house, but the bait was a worthwhile bite nonetheless. We stopped to admire the bright yellow dandelions that have stuck around since last summer. We picked a few less fortunate wilted flowers that still got plenty of attention because they were purple, or had been. We found patterns, smelled rosemary, and rubbed our hands along a rough brick wall lined with soft, mushy moss. We said hello to a tiny snail that crept into view and to neighbors on porches and neighbors next door. We even stopped to feel sorry for a snake that seemed to have been squished to death by a car. An hour and less than a mile later, we decided to head home. I’m going to try to make it a weekly goal to go out on a directionless neighborhood walk with the intention to be present, to say hello, to make discoveries, and to get a few extra steps in for the day.
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All Mountains and Molehills 