The first quarter mile was the toughest like it always is. The body isn’t fully warmed up and all the joints are creaky. But I just tried to concentrate on something else, anything else and a butterfly flitted by me.
I think, “Wow, I hope you know where you’re going.” And then I think I could be saying those very same words to myself.
I decided to count the steps as a distraction. I decided when I hit numeral 100 I would stop and rest. I lost count around 53.
My mind wandered at the prospect of growing old.
It is something I never wanted to do until now. Now I think if I make it to 53 I would be so happy.
I stopped for a short rest. I brought with me one apple, a chunk of Prima Donna cheese, two sourdough rolls and a liter of water.
I ate the apple under an oak tree. The oak must have been under 100 years old because it was growing out of a stone footing of an old homestead. The stone footing was all that was left. I wondered if it was a happy home. It seemed like a beautiful place to live.
Something caught my eye and 7 turkeys were cruising about 20 yards from me. They slipped under the brush and out of view. I drank some water.
I figured that there wasn’t any magic transporter that would take me to the top of the mountain, so I would have to get there by myself.
So march, I said.
It wasn’t that hard. It’s just that it’s so much easier to watch TV.
I reached the summit, and the view was expansive. It was exhilarating.
I wished I could name all the mountains, all the valleys. I wished I could fly.
A breeze hit my face, and I had a strange feeling. Suddenly I felt like I was not alone.
Do you know that feeling?
I didn’t know if I was being watched or stalked or if I should be scared.
Suddenly I really really wished I could fly.
So I did the next best thing. I decided to sing.
“She’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes.”
Pretty good choice, I thought.
One time I had to make a presentation in front of a lot of people, and, of course, public speaking gives me the jitters, so the whole way there in my car I sang “Don’t Bring around a cloud to rain on my parade!”
That was a good choice too. I have a good internal panic DJ.
Meanwhile all the little hairs on the back of my neck were saying RUN! But I knew better. If the presence were a mountain lion, then I would look like dinner. Chances were unlikely, but why take chances. So I continued.
“She’ll be driving six white horses when she comes.”
And moved slowly to the largest clearing while flapping my arms.
I’m sure the ghost at the old homestead had a good laugh
Judy,
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed reading this post! I love the out doors, some apples cheese and bread. We call it being hobbits, but whatever:). Your blog seems to be like your walk, you are really getting warmed up now.
Rick would love to see that old homestead spot. He is an archeologist at heart. Can we come out on an adventure hike sometime? Promise to sing away all the lions if we do okay?!