As I Walk Along

Late Bloomer, ,

I have done plenty of walking in my life, and done it willingly. Movement has always been important to me, and quite therapeutic and clarifying. I prefer to walk outdoors and always welcome and bid adieu to Nature’s changing seasons by being out in each on foot; taking in the transformations happening around me, realizing the transformations taking place within me. Step by step, I find direction.

A Nature-lover from an early age, it has been my consistent link to God, Great Spirit, Higher Power. Even when I feel distant from organized religion, or some deity looking out for me, I never lose faith in the awe of Nature. So I walk on. Sometimes solo, sometimes with my husband and our dog. Or with friends and family who enjoy a “walk and talk” as much as I do. When recovering from illness, injuries, or surgeries, walking is my improvement gauge.

The most distinct memory I have of this is when I was going through chemotherapy treatments for breast cancer. I was spared some of the worst side effects, but it still knocked me down, especially days 3-5 after a treatment. A walk outside, even for a few blocks, was my way of drawing strength from my surroundings. As I felt better, I walked further. It was as sure a sign of hope as anything else I could point to.

Nature is sometimes the topic of my writing, but more often it is my source of inspiration and where I gather ideas. Running is an especially effective generator of new material. Heading down the trails of our community, putting on miles, my mind works in a different way. Ideas flow more freely and fresh thoughts find a way through the clutter easier.

Trail pic

Nature is also welcome common ground in my family. Growing up on a farm, we were more in tune to the weather, the temperature, and the varying seasons. My siblings and I carried that with us to adulthood and tend to share a deep appreciation, and plenty of light conversation, about it.

I was about to apologize for the simplicity of the poem that follows, written when I was 11 or 12, then I realized simplicity is the key. Nature, left alone and given time, simply does what it needs to do. When I felt I belonged nowhere else, I still felt at home in Nature. Today, Nature continues to nurture me and I listen carefully for the various songs it sings for me when I pay attention. The pace of Nature allows me to bloom late as opposed to never, and to keep slowly learning. Both blessings.

As I Walk Along

 As I walk along the creek
It reminds me of a streak
An ancient streak of gold
Flowing from sources of old

 As I walk along the wood
Where the big oak once stood
I feel the warm gentle breeze
All of which I want to seize

 As I walk along the road
I remember all the stories told
Of the traveling of men
On this very road back then

 As I walk along
I want you and I to belong
In this world of the strong
This world of Nature’s song

1977

 

Published by Late Bloomer

Late bloomer and slow learner. That's me. Both taproots and faulty foundations were fertilized in my youth. Gratefully, my taproots and I survived. The blooming and learning continue.

4 Comments

  2. The “walk and talks” were and are such lovely memories. Riley’s pond holds our family history. There is something about walking in nature that is so restorative. Roger and I logged many miles and saw so many miracles of nature. I remember his shoes all lined up in the closet. Walk on Roger….

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    1. Indeed, think about the miles we have collectively logged as a family around those ponds.
      Restorative is such an appropriate word. I am grateful you and Roger shared all the miles you did
      over the years. And when a loved one is no longer physically beside us, they can still walk with us and in our memories. Thanks Danita!

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