Morning Walks

One of Murfreesboro's historic homes.

Keith and I walked a great deal the last six months that we lived in Waco. We were trying to get a little more exercise, and we both love being surrounded by woods and trees. Since Waco is home to several amazing woodsy park areas (most notably Cameron Park, the nation's second largest city park after Central Park in NYC), it was easy to make walking part of the routine. We could meet up at the head of any number of favorite trails right after I got off work, log several miles, and be back home in time to cook dinner. Easy.

And another one. Two chimneys, how delightful!

Now we live in Murfreesboro. And there are several pretty amazing state parks with woodsy trails running through them, all a "short" thirty to forty-five minute drive away. Add in the fact that my working hours are now nine to six (and it gets dark at half past five), and we've got a bit of an obstacle to overcome. It's taken us this long to come to a solution, but I believe we've found one: morning walks.

Through the breezeway in the back, you can just make out a wishing well. Keith laughs at me because I call every well a wishing well. But who's to say it's not?

For the past few days, I've been walking Keith to school (his day starts with office hours at eight), then meandering my way back home through town. It feels like a pretty good compromise. I can get a fair bit of walking in and still be home in time to straighten the house before my own office hours start. And though I would prefer a woodsy, moss-covered lane with nary a car in sight, the streets of this town offer some pretty decent "scope for the imagination."

My footbridge. Like a portal to a forgotten time.

I've been making a loop through the town's historic district to admire the lovely old brick structures that have stood here for hundreds of years. I've made crossing the footbridge part of my daily routine. I love bridges and I love water and I love the wild tangle of tree and shrub and vine that surrounds it. I've been noticing things and people I haven't had the chance to notice before.

Walking back up the driveway toward our little "cabin in the woods".

When you walk past the same places at the same time every day, you pick up on changes that might have slipped your awareness otherwise. Yesterday, for example, I noticed slim, light green stalks poking out of the fresh earth everywhere I looked. They were just stalks, swaying in the chill breeze. But yesterday afternoon, the weather warmed up considerably, and this morning those same slim stalks were topped with the bobbing heads and preening bonnets of dozens and dozens of daffodils.

A lovely little surprise in the front yard.

 I even found a few slim stalks in my own front yard, just biding their time, waiting for their own time to bloom.