quiet time

A few weeks ago, I had this entry half-written in my head about walking. I went a couple of weeks without driving my car to work (to my very convenient parking garage which is attached to my office building -- unheard-of at my university of employment), opting instead to take the bus or, on nicer days, walk. Most days, I'd ride the bus in the morning and walk home in the afternoon, so I wouldn't be all sweaty and I'd get to work on time. Turns out, I really enjoy the walk.

Yeah, I was shocked, too.

Well, then I bought a new car. New cars are addictive. I think they lace the upholstery with new car smell and crack or something -- it's -so- good, and when that new car smell dissipates, the dealers want you to trade in your car and get a newer one.

So I've got my new car, with the new car crack going on, and it gets 450+ miles to a tank of gas. I don't have to worry about it breaking down like the old one, and I can rationalize my gas usage by saying that I'm helping to clean the air with my super-ultra-low-emissions-vehicle. I know that sounds redundant, but it's the official designation -- I didn't make it up.

The point is, I can rationalize. I can always rationalize. So I've been driving my car to work most days, and I haven't gotten around to writing this entry yet, until now.

C and I walked to Eeyore's Birthday Party on Saturday. I wore my new sandals, which are really comfortable, but not quite comfortable enough for six miles of walking. I got blisters right at the ball of my foot where the straps rubbed funny. By Sunday, they felt better again, and today, I had the urge to walk to school. C didn't need a ride to school, so I decided to hoof it.

It's a nice walk, and cool mornings make it even nicer. I live in a great neighborhood, but there are even greater ones between home and work. Once I get to the other side of the medical centers and cross the major street, there's this beautiful, idyllic neighborhood with quaint little houses and beautiful yards. The only things missing are driveways. I like driveways and car ports, but I'd be willing to consider giving them up to live in a house on this street with huge, overhanging trees.

There's a Taco Shack on the way to work, too. I have a weakness for potato-egg-cheese breakfast tacos. I grabbed a taco on the way to work this morning -- ate it there and read the paper for a few minutes before continuing on my way. I wound up being 40 minutes late, but the walk was good.

This afternoon, I made the return trip. It was much hotter at 5pm, just foreshadowing of the summer to come. I saw a message stenciled on the sidewalk at a street corner:

"we are our experience,
our experience is what it is of;
we are that."

I have no idea what it meant, but it sounded profound, so I took a picture. On days when no one listens to anyone, I have to content myself with the little things.