I have so many fellow bloggers who post about their walks in their beautiful environs (England, Ireland, Scotland, Spain) that I am almost embarrassed to tell you that mine are largely in church parking lots and on sidewalks. We do have a trail in our vicinity (the American Tobacco Trail) but getting to it is a problem, and I hate having to drive to get someplace to walk.
Most of you know I am a swimmer. I am in a pool as soon as the water gets to 68 or 69oF (that’s roughly 20oC) and don’t leave until I’m forced out when the pools close in the fall. After that, the choices are the gym (a 20-minute drive) or walking. Now I have nothing against walking. It is fine exercise. But with two replaced knees, arthritic feet, and polio-weakened legs, it becomes a tour d’ my force to get out there. Having a Fitbit helps because I can challenge myself with how many steps I take.
So, I thought I would show bore treat you to some of the things I do see on my walk that catch my interest.
The first is a pattern I spotted in the sod of an area in our development. Sod turns brown in the fall – at least ours does, and also soaks up water so walking on it is like sinking into a wet sponge – but in this part, it browned in an interesting pattern. Not sure what caused it.
The second is the leaf patterns that are left on the sidewalk after a heavy rain and a day or so of drying out. The leaves seem determined to leave their mark, even when they’ve left their trees.
Other sights that I do enjoy:
A favorite old tree stands in the field near us. It is gnarled and needs trimming (when the HOA thinks they can afford it) and an arborist sold me he thinks it’s a walnut. It stands on what was once a farm, which was sold for the building of this community.
Another is the mailbox left from the farm that sat alone in the middle of the field. Occasionally I found flyers in it. It was uprooted when the developers labeled some worn-down grass in the field as ‘nature paths.”
There is a barn, semi-collapsed in the woods along the road that led to the farm, and the creek that runs through the eastern part of the property.
It’s called Crooked Creek and there was, when we first moved here, a lovely old arched stone bridge over it. This allowed walkers to take the road through the woods and visit a small pond. The developers did not like the fact that off-road vehicles accessed the aforementioned field and tore it up, so they tore the bridge down. Brilliant, expedient thinking.