Turning Right
I left the house early, out for a walk and an artist's date. The walk was one of the usuals — until I turned right instead of left at the end of Glade and ended up on an unpaved section of the Cross County Trail.
It slowed me down, this packed-dirt, root-strewn path. And slowing down was a good thing. I noticed the light filtering through the early autumn leaves, some just starting to change. I heard a bluejay squawk. Finally, I took my earbuds out so I could hear Little Difficult Run sing as it tripped over its large smooth stones.
Back to my car and inspired by the trail, I decided to drive past houses that line it. Some of them look small and down-sizable, worth a second glance.
Now I'm writing at a coffeeshop I recently discovered. The Doobie Brothers are playing, I'm tapping my feet and trying to concentrate.
Maybe not the perfect artist's date, but it's a start.
It slowed me down, this packed-dirt, root-strewn path. And slowing down was a good thing. I noticed the light filtering through the early autumn leaves, some just starting to change. I heard a bluejay squawk. Finally, I took my earbuds out so I could hear Little Difficult Run sing as it tripped over its large smooth stones.
Back to my car and inspired by the trail, I decided to drive past houses that line it. Some of them look small and down-sizable, worth a second glance.
Now I'm writing at a coffeeshop I recently discovered. The Doobie Brothers are playing, I'm tapping my feet and trying to concentrate.
Maybe not the perfect artist's date, but it's a start.
Labels: perspective, walking, writing
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