The Joy of Walking

The sun is out today. It’s peeking out between the thick, deep gray, rain clouds that filled the lake to the brim last week.

Without my knowledge, these gray, dull overcast days clouded my soul. But today, as I walk with Jilly to the park, the clouds have cleared both inside and out. The sun is shining and I see hints of blue sky. The air is so fresh.


Up on the rooftop, a dove calls out to me. I hear the tweets of the red-wing blackbirds and caws of the crows. A gaggle of geese feast on the grass and robins swoop in dining on the worms flushed out by the storm.

I smell the spring, at last. The crisp freshness flows over my face waking my senses, my mind, heart and soul. I am out, feeling my feet on the path, stretching my arms and legs under the trees, leaning into the energy of the Douglass Fir tree. And, today, instead of closing my eyes as I meditate against the tree, I open them and smile and see the sunlight streaming between the bare branches highlighting the new, tender, yellow-green buds.