Walking

I walked twice yesterday. Once in the morning, up to town and over to the craft fair. I counted something like 18 other people either jogging past me or riding their bikes. A few more on the walk home. Compare this to walking in New Hampshire. I met no one walking. I received comments from a few people who noticed me walking. Comments of amazement.
I bought these New Balance sneakers last year just for walking but I can't stand to wear them. My feet feel cramped and sweaty and in the end, they hurt my feet. Maybe I needed a larger size but frankly I'd rather wear my sandals for walking. PS I painted the sneakers.

I love to walk. It is good for the thinking mind. I remember reading that Virginia Woolf would take long walks in the afternoon after writing. And the Bronte sisters walked around and around their dining table for exercise.

I feel like I am churning through problems when I walk even if no specific problem solving answers arise. The pound of the feet on the pavement. The observing of the landscape close up. The sense of community with other walkers. I'm a hermit, so it is good for me to get out of the confines of my four walls. When I walk up to the town's center I can sit on a park bench, go to the library or stop in at Harwich Central Cafe and feel a part of the larger world, small though this larger world is.