Morning is for walking. At 6 AM, before breakfast, my ostomy has yet to initiate the incontinence that affects the remainder of my day, and the outside temperature has yet to become unbearably warm and humid. As I exit the front door, my cat’s complaints about what I have spooned into his bowl for his breakfast is soon replaced by the avian applause raining down from the trees to greet the hour. It is still dark, but I can see the sky beginning to blue above the dark shadows of the mossy live oaks. There was a time when I would walk with the accompaniment of music plugged into my ears, but no longer. Now I prefer the birdsong, mainly the boundless and varied singing of the mockingbird, whose repertoire seems endless. Going along Brown St. soon transforms into going up Brown St. which, my legs tell me in their non-verbal way, is making them work harder. I’m breathing more heavily when it crests into Coombs Dr. Turning left, I’m seeing spindly crepe myrtles on both sides of the road, yet it is still too dark to make out the deep pink flower puffs dangling around its skinny limbs. Reaching the end of the cul de sac, I turn around and head back. The sky has lightened and the neighborhood is taking shape around me. I can see the crepe myrtle blossoms now, and the red cardinal couple flitting about near them. Now I’m going down Brown St. and heading home. I’m like a steer sensing the nearness of water and the end of my trail. My cat greets me with a sour expression on his face. My day begins.
You are a very descriptive writer, Henry. You have deftly transported your readers to your morning walk route. One thing that stood out for me is that it is still dark there at 6am. Here in SW Ontario, it has been light for the better part of a couple of hours by then, but I remember that you are closer to the equator, and you don't have the wild fluctuations in dark/light that comes with moving away from the equator. Cats, however, have the same disposition, no matter how close or far from the equator they are.
Laurie
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How true, Laurie. The feline beasties are the same all over the globe. I appreciate your comment. HenryM
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Thanks for sharing your walk Henry. I enjoyed every step with you and my legs aren't tired at all.
Mike
Mike, you must've figured something out that I didn't. But at least my walk wasn't uphill both ways, eh? Stay well.
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Hey Henry, my love is my cat E. As long as you have a loving cat, you're in heaven. People can forget in the minute you stop talking because of life being without an asshole. You're with God's creatures along with me. One wolf's over and out.
Henry... my man... morning is for sleeping! Since I eat late to optimize absorption and then hydrate from 2:30 am to 4:30 am, the only time I can really sleep is from 5:30 am to 8:00 am. So you walk all you want... I'll be in Never-Never Land or counting sheep hopping over my fence. Yeah, I know... but I like saying "sheeps." But I do agree with you about the sounds of nature being better than any pre-recorded music. I think as we get older (and ponder the end of the line) we actually look at what's around us and marvel at the complexity and simplicity of what Nature (call it whatever you like) is all about. I've taken a similar direction on weeds. All plants are amazing creatures... who got to decide what's a "weed" and needs to be killed, and what's to be nurtured and adored? Our crepes are just starting to bloom... a little late for this part of the world... but better late than never. Enjoy those walks!
Regards,
bob
Hello HenryM.
Thank you for sharing your morning walk with us in such an eloquent way. I spent years literally cutting out my morning walk so that it could be alongside the river and the dawn chorus and wildlife was amazing. Since the covid lockdown we have had to be content with own own backyard, but that too is teeming with wildlife, so we stay relatively contented in the mornings especially when the backdrop is usually a brilliant sunrise.
Stay safe !
Best wishes
Bill
We all march to our unique circadian rhythm, eh? I'm with you on two scores which you mentioned. First, I too am attracted to referring to those wooly beasts as "sheeps." There's got to be a way to distinguish singular from plural, is my take. So: one sheep, two sheeps. It makes sense. And weeds! Most people regard that as a derogatory word, but weeds have flowers, just like other plants. If something is growing in the soil, then it has a right to live, just like other, less looked down upon, greenery. When grass is mowed, it has a wonderful fragrance that perfumes the air. Weeds do too, even if it is a more pungent odor. And each is equally alluring in it's own way. Okay, it's almost 6 AM; I'm going for a walk, bud. Stay well. HenryM
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