Bucolic Ruminations

As I get older, I find that the art of the long walk brings me more pleasure than almost anything else. The simple act of stepping outside and heading off the pavement: into the woods, along the shore, up and off and out. My mind tries its damnedest to keep up with it's constant chatter, but after an hour or so it gives up and just looks around. At the sky. At the waves off in the distance. The grass underfoot.

It is silence I am after. And an unbounded view. And the smell of the earth, the wind in my face. Everything seems to fall into place. Even if it still sucks in some particular way, its just not that important anymore.

I am lucky to live in a beautiful place full of great walks. Here are some of my favorites:

Up to the cemetary and into the woods off Bridge Street, out to the top of Warwick and back home.
Out Rodeo Grounds, across the highway to the back side of East/West ranch, out Park Hill and back.
The Upper Walk of the East/West Ranch.
The beach walk of East/West.
Moonstone Beach and back.
Santa Rosa Creek Road to Lynn's Fruitbin and back.
Secret Beach
The Cove, out to the point and back.

You should try all of them if you have time when you're in town.


I imagine when I'm retired being able to do like Muir and just take off for days at a time.

Just walking around. Breathing. Grinning ear to ear.

You really should come with.



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