Recently I’ve noticed that a lot of people on the walking path are talking on the phone as they stroll.  And quite a few others have ear buds in place while they listen to who knows what while they cover the terrain.

This multitasking goes contrary to my nature, my philosophy of paying attention to where I am when I am there.  Of course, I do occasionally do more than one thing at a time myself, but I really try not to when walking.  Most of the time, I don’t even walk with another person so that I can devote my attention to the environment.

So, a phone on the path?  Not for me.

It was a funny feeling, cool on my front and warm on my back.  I felt sort of like I was floating face down in a cool pool on a bright day.  The sun was still fairly low in the sky so it hadn’t warmed up much but directly in the rays, it felt toasty and reassuring.  I pondered turning and going the other direction to reverse the temperature variant, but opted against it.  It felt good just the way it was.

Today I didn’t walk alone; I walked with anger.  Anger doesn’t make a very good companion, keeping me distracted from the views and observations of interesting happenings along my way.

When I heard the voice of a small boy calling, “Hi! Hi! Hi!” while lifting his shirt to show me his belly button, anger tugged my arm to keep me from stopping to say more than “Hi and bye.”  Anger didn’t want me to lose the intensity of negative feelings.

And so we walked on, anger and I, all along my usual path.  At the bottom of the hill, we passed a cat that looked ominously about to enter the road.  I stopped and called to it but it didn’t come.  Should I try to intervene or had the cat traveled this path a thousand times?  Anger encouraged me to leave it, confident the cat could find its own way.

Anger didn’t dissipate but stuck with me along the entire loop until I crested the hill a second time and gazed again at the spectacular view of the mountains.  That’s when I had had enough and I walked on leaving anger there to fend for itself.

I hadn’t wanted to mention it, but the leaves are turning.  The old fogey in me is saying, “But the summer has gone so quickly, it can’t be fall already!”  Indeed those lazy, hot days have passed hastily and that season is almost gone!  In just a few days it will be the equinox again with the hours of day the same as the hours of night…and the world is getting ready.  New colors are everywhere, preparing to dazzle us before they fade and leave us with the drab brown of winter.

This winter I am going to go on a search for colors among the shades of neutral.  It will be something to look forward to.

But in the meantime, I’m ready for the wild palette of autumn.  Let ‘er rip!!

I wasn’t that keen on going out this morning but I decided that it wasn’t that bad and I would have the chance to take a new perspective. It’s raining, slowly, gently and steadily.  Perfect for all growing things, except worms.

The sidewalk was strewn with worms escaping the water saturated soil.  Most were fully extended hurrying to find a dry spot.  But everywhere was wet, wet, wet.

I fought the impulse to scoop them up and bring them home with me to my compost heap.  It is a trial effort going on in my garage inside a huge black garbage can.  It could use some worms, I think, though it might be too wet there too.  Worms are supposed to “process” compost like crazy, given the right conditions.

But I couldn’t bear the thought of them flinching and flailing when I picked them off of the sidewalk, their tiny little brains sensing impending doom.  If I had had something to carry them in, I might have done it, this mission of intended mercy.

They will just have to fend for themselves this time…as they always do.

As I passed the backyard of a neighboring house, there were at least ten pigeons fluttering and hovering trying to steal food from a feeder designed for small songbirds.  Those big old birds looked oversized and out of place.  They must have been humiliated.  Where are the ladies with their sacks of cracked corn throwing handouts to the pigeons?  I don’t know but these featherbrains need to find a new feed trough.