On Walking

                 Occasionally, when I tell people we are looking for a lifestyle with more walkability, I get a look that says something like, “why” or “what?”  For a minute, I feel like I’m crazy until I remember that there are people who walk to work every day or ride their bikes and don’t even own cars. Granted, not that typical in Florida, but it is often the norm.

When I lived in D.C. after college I hated not having a car.  I felt claustrophobic, missing the freedom of being able to go where I wanted, whenever I wanted. I liked taking long moody drives at night listening to music when I wanted some time to myself.  But now, I have the best of both. A car when I want or need, and many options within walking distance.

A writer from the St. Pete Times is doing a walking experiment in tribute to Thoreau’s Walking essay. He is walking everywhere for a week.  As I’ve read along, I love all the small things he has noticed while he walks, like the baby chicks or the hidden cemetery.

For me, it’s those small things that make the most impact.  One day in Santa Fe, Mirabelle and I were walking to a book store when she stopped me, pulling me back and pointing to the ground. I’m sure I was rushing to story time and maybe a little annoyed to be slowed down, but I stopped and looked. She had found a perfect heart stamped into the cement in front of one of the store entrances.  We found more as we walked, and since that day I’ve made a point to notice those things we often overlook, or that may seem like trash, or would have missed had we been in a car.   In our new house in Tampa, we find pieces of Gasparilla beads everywhere – on the ground, dangling from tree branches, in sidewalk cracks – it amazes me that almost six months later, remnants remain.

I also like the sense of exploration I get from walking.  I’m often distracted in my car and definitely removed from my surroundings.  I also have a terrible sense of direction. When I’m walking I let that stuff go.  I wander more than I would in a car. If I get lost walking, it’s unlikely I’ve gone too far and can easily turn back. I don’t have to worry about finding someplace to turn around, I can push through bushes, jump over curbs or walk around buildings if I must.  All opportunities to see something I might otherwise miss.

This is the ideal. The reality is that we still drive a lot. July in Tampa is hot and although Mirabelle likes to walk, there are times when it’s not realistic. A wagon has helped, although that brings out a whole other set of issues where I feel guilty that she’s not walking, interacting with us, etc. Oh well.  It’s the little things.

Until next time.