Although it was windy and freezing cold overnight, today it's sunny and warmed up to where it's, although not exactly balmy, perfectly pleasant walking weather as long as one puts on a jacket. We're reaching the time of year where it's on the brink of twilight by the time I'm finished with work, so if I'm going to get in a walk, it has to be on my lunch break. So today I just took a walk up and down my street over lunch.
I've always liked walking, but as I get older, I find myself appreciating it even more. There's something really magical about walking in the woods or along a quiet country lane, especially in cool (but not freezing-cold) weather. The crisp air, a light breeze contrasted by the warmth of the sun, the strangely refreshing feeling of frost-kissed grass, glancing over and seeing your long shadow cast by the low winter sun. The only sounds the steady fall of your footsteps and your own quiet breathing, punctuated by occasional sounds of nature.
The far-off cry of a hawk.
The breeze rustling through the trees.
The impudent call of a chickadee.
And deer -- deer absolutely everywhere. At this time of year, I can hardly go two steps without tripping over the creatures.
A nice, relaxing walk feels almost regenerative. It's practically like detox, like you can feel the mental toxins and stresses of modern life just melting away. Walking is refreshing whatever your mental state, but it's best of all when you can focus on the external, on the sights, sounds, and smells around you, and not be absorbed in your inner thoughts.
About the only times I've ever regretted going for a walk were when I expected a location to be quiet and near-deserted but there turned out to be lots of people there. For me, solitude, or near-solitude, are an important element of the magic of walking. Going with a few friends or family is also an enjoyable way to walk, trading some of the peace and quiet for company and camaraderie. But big crowds or lots of noise pretty much kill the experience for me.
The walking season is already lasting a bit longer than seasonally normal for where I live, and I'm enjoying the extra opportunities while I can. At some point this will end, and I'll have to think about a way to keep getting this exercise through the cold, dark winter. Perhaps I should consider investing in a manual treadmill. Combined with my big-screen TV showing videos of walking through nature, it might be a reasonable enough approximation to motivate me to continue getting in daily walks. It would pale compared to the real thing, of course, but an imperfect simulacrum would be very preferable to just turning into a slug all winter as sometimes happens.