Thin clouds cover the blue sky
The stuffed lion left by someone yesterday is gone
Cool breeze touches my face
The blue heron waits on the other side of the river
The riverbank is empty of fishermen
I will walk back home
Take a bowl of ramen from the fridge.
I walk slow
as if it is too cold to walk
It’s only autumn
no icicles are hanging yet from tree branches
with stiff knees I struggle
to gain only a short distance
as if crawling
I’m not too old either
Agility is not a property of the young
I’m too young and ashamed
to realize I’ve grown old.
After your stockings are filled with your feet
and you put on your shoes
you can start walking.
Why? Did he lose his belt?
“We just arrived,” say the fishermen
“It’s a Siberian huskie,” he says.
“They become cold easily,” she says
Both dogs are wearing colorful sweaters.
Day’s radiance lifts my feet
I meet them in my walk
The same path every morning whenever I can
As if I’m trying remember each column of trees,
Their abundant leaves and shades.
I often think of Camino de Compostela.
I hold with interest Appalachian Trail.
I hear the sounds of hot air balloons overhead
I better get going
Thoughts can escape
I can’t separate appearances and their contents
The dogs, fishermen, river and its tides
One doesn’t have to wonder where poems come from.
The walk brings life to life.
I tried to walk to the river everyday.I stpo a lot to write phrases that come in my head, take photos, or talk to people I meet.
Three walkers are ahead of me: One going towards the river and 2 are returning from the river.
A reflection from a tree catches my attention. A spider web.
Afterwards I start looking for the birds. I hear their calls and songs during my walk.
I pass by clusters of flowers.
A fisherman in a boat comes around.
I walk the same path home
and find early arrival of ghosts.
The day is cool but sunny. The colors are starting to change.
Mrs. Abstract and I toured University of Salamanca. The Way of St. James, Santiago de Compostela, signified by the seashell passes through Salamanca.
yesterday, I climbed 13 floors, walked more than 10,000 steps.
I have been walking for one hour everyday for two and a half weeks now. Napa River is near our neighborhood. I follow a loop that takes me about one hour. I stop a lot to observe, take photos and talk to people I meet. Many of them are other walkers and most are walking their dogs.
The photos I posted are some of those phots taken during my walk.
Walking can be a form of calming hour. A new article sings praises for walking:walking
During the last few days I have been walking to the river early in the morning.The day is cool and I need only a light jacket. Today is one of those days.
The path to the river has newly planted bushes like the English laurel. They replaced wild palm trees that become diseased easily.
The regular fishermen have not arrived. There are two gentlemen on the riverbank who are enjoying a conversation and drinking coffee.
The front lawns of the houses along the street are well groomed and have a lot of flowers. I don’t know their names.
I stop often to look at the flowers and take photos. If the fishermen are around I usually talk to them. Very casual conversations. Nothing deep or esoteric.
My walk takes me about 60 minutes because I stop a lot. Sometimes I carry a book and sit on an empty bench to read. I write notes in my mobile phone.
I’m reading currently 3 books: Aristotle’s Way by Edith Hall, Love and St. Augustine by Hannah Arendt and Dancing on the Spider Web, a new novel by Sasha Paulsen, the feature editor of our local newspaper, the Napa Register.