Sunday, April 18
The Art of Strolling
Late this morning it occurred to me that it was a lovely day and I should go for a walk. Nancy at the front desk said, "Everybody should get out on a day like this." She seemed certain about this, so, being somewhat impressionable, I decided to take the iPod out for a walk. These iPod's need their exercise, y'know. Accompanied by Alanis Morissette's "Unplugged," I strolled.
Webster's defines strolling as: "To wander on foot; to ramble idly or leisurely; to rove."
It's clear I've much to learn about this gentle art form. It's still hard not to quicken my pace, to move as if with a purpose ("Gotta get over to that tree!") It would be so nice to be able to make no effort at all, to go for a relaxed amble, walking just to walk. I'm getting a little better at it -- maybe -- but there's a long way to go before mastery, or even competence.
Then too, it would probably be a lot more enjoyable if my back didn't hurt so much.
I kept finding things, views I wanted to draw. I wanted to bring out my sketchbook and revisit these places. A view of the pond. A tangled stand of grey-barked trees. Some kind of plant with a thorny prickly pod, whose name I don't know but whose appearance pleases me. Geese in pairs, honking their displeasure at my intrusion. The buildings of Prestwick Chase, seen at certain angles -- and looking across the little pond between C and D wing, which somehow makes me think of seaside place, some resort.