Wednesday, August 21

Walking. (also skipping with brief stints of running)

There’s this path I love to walk on. A farmer paved a wide circular route through his fields that runs up and down slight hills, past rows of trees, and around the fields where he keeps a few cows. (yes, I mentioned this path recently in ‘The Dearhearts’)
It was a Dearheart that showed me this path, and since I walked it with him the first time, I have been walking it alone often.

This evening it started to cloud over and rain. It got a little dark for how early it was, and the wind started blowing. It’s August, and here where I live, this is still very much summer. I heard many people complain today about the heat saying they looked forward to summer ending and fall beginning. Frankly I will always be sad to see summer leave. I love the heat, the sun, the long days, and of course the sunsets so late in the day.

I headed down to ‘the farmers path’ for a walk in the warm windy air just in time to enjoy a lengthy sunset if the clouds were willing to part a bit and let some light through.

I bought a new cd about six weeks ago and I haven’t listened to it for almost a fortnight. Time to walk with “The Blessed Unrest”  by my favorite Artist.

“Maybe there’s a way out of the cage where you live, maybe one of these day you can let the light in…”

Sha-zam! What the heck happens when you start walking with music in your ears, fresh air in your lungs, and  the beauty of nature and sky all around you? Magic, that’s what.

“You said, remember that life is not meant to be wasted, we can always be chasing the sun. So fill up your lungs and just run. We’ll always be chasing the sun.”

I was not the only person on the path. Ahead of me were two friends jogging. Passing me in the opposite direction was a little girl (about 8) on her bike wearing a riding helmet, her mother trying to walk quickly behind her, and the father walking slowly with two more little ones even further behind.

“There’s a history through her, sent to us as a gift from the future. To show us the proof, More than that it’s to dare us to move. And open our eyes, and to learn from the sky”

Eventually another jogger passed me as I walked resisting the desire to let my hands dance to the music playing loudly on the white buds in my ears.

“I miss the days when my mind would just rest quiet. My imagination hadn’t turned on me yet.”
“This is my darkest hour. A long road has led me out here. But I only need turn around to face the light and decide flight or fight.”

The sunset was almost non-existent as I started walking. Just a few sunbeams popping through the clouds trying to stretch downwards.
Walking alone always takes me to thoughts of a particular person.

“I’ll gather up the avenues and leave them on your doorstep. And I’ll tiptoe away, so you won’t have to say, you heard me leave.”

The wind continued, and I took the clips out of my hair to let it fall and blow in the wind. Drops of rain started falling, but so thinly it was nothing to even take note of, or allow to affect my walk. I tucked my hair into my shirt to blow around a little less, but it seemed to not want to be excused from the party.

“You may find yourself in the dead of night. Lost somewhere out there in that great big beautiful sky. You are all just perfect little satellites. Spinning round and round this broken earthly life. This is so you’ll know the sound of someone who loves you from the ground. Tonight you’re not alone at all. This is me sending out my satellite call.”

There’s a small pond in the middle near the west edge of the path. As the sunset colors change, so does the reflection on water. (A pic also in ‘The Dearhearts’) This is one of the great things about this path… there are numerous spots where stopping and taking pictures proves to be perfect.

“All alone in the corner of the night sky, spiral bones of a super nova starlight, fell in love with another burning so bright, she dreamed of a way to ignite.”

On both the east and west sides of the path there are curly willow trees so full and bushy they almost look like globe willows. On the west side there is a sign: "To the person that cut these trees, please never come back."

Romantic would be a great way to describe this path, but I can’t help wondering if it’s romantic on a level you can’t ever convey to anyone else. They would have to feel it themselves, or miss out.

“Kiss me goodnight like a good friend might. And I’ll do the same but won’t mean it. Cause love is a cage, and these words on a page, can carry the pain but they don’t free it. In another life I wouldn’t need to, console myself as I resign to release you.”

Each time the path dipped, I skipped and let my hands float around with each song, sure I was a little hidden and could get away with it. The sunset continued changing.

“Let the bough break let it come down crashing. Let the sun fade out to a dark sky. Can’t say I’d even notice it was absent. Cause I could live by the light in your eyes. I’ll unfold before you, what I’ve strung together. The very first words of a life long love letter.”

As it got darker, I passed less people on the path. The little girl on the bike and her parents were gone. The Joggers disappeared, and it seemed I might be one of the very few left out walking in the beauty.

“No way to make the pain play fair, it doesn’t disappear just because you say it isn’t there. So when they ask why’d she go, you can say cause life in Eden, life in Eden changed.”

Rain fell so sporadically the path was still two shades of gray in the dim light. I mouthed the words to the music and finally allowed my hands to do their own thing walking in the freedom of darkness. Rain fell into my mouth, wind danced through my hair, and I began to skip-walk.

The dark sunset changed again. It was nearly gone anyway, but suddenly a diffused pink cloud appeared. It was a glowing light in the middle of the sunset, kind of like an intruder who didn’t want to play the sun-setting game.

“It’s like I’m standing on the edge with just a telephone wire, trying to get to you first to say the world’s on fire. Holding my breath until I know you’re alright, because the water will only rise. When will you realize?”

You can buy The Blessed Unrest Here

“…the horizon is all we have.”

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