Between the stars above and the sturdy earth is a sea of air which will hopefully come as no surprise to you. Our little ships (us) are subject to its whimsical nature and I was reminded of this during my first walk of 2020. The weather has been unseasonably warm and I was tempted to try a tee shirt in January, thumbing my nose at the winter solstice. But no, at my age there is no reason to tempt fate so I opted for my trusty hoodie.
Almost immediately I see danger on the horizon, a horizon which seems to be getting closer by the minute.
The white below the dark is a sheet of rain, yet I am an optimist at heart. I make it to the cross street and turn left, moving parallel to the storm. I had this weird idea that I would somehow skirt the edges and avoid the worst. I mean I am so small and the storm so large, surely I would not attract the storm god’s attention?
I feel the wind coming up behind me, pushing me along, and then this whooshing sound of rain hitting the trees and I know without turning around that I am in for it. I pull my hood up and brace myself and here it comes; wind and rain in sheets letting me how it is out here in the world.
Being ‘in the elements’ is a raw, primal feeling. There is no shelter save what you can carry. All your senses are engaged; indeed this is why we need “senses” at all. The January rain is cold and unforgiving and my choices are to hunker down or keep on moving. I am resigned to be wet and cold so I keep on truckin’.
Drenching aside, my daily walk grounds me; takes me out of myself and into the shared experience and our place in the world. I have a number of paths I regularly follow but in truth the journey is never the same, a book of infinite pages. I may not know the name of the lizard I find along the way but I know he wasn’t there yesterday. And so the tapestry changes and I expect will again. As I walk I am making these new internal routes, unique to me. You might call them memories.
whoisfenton 