Walk Duration 50 minutes and One hour...
One thing I have noticed the past two days is just how unhurried I am becoming. I don't walk fast. The more I walk, the slower I go. And I'm not quite so interested in destinations. I no longer really set out with any goals. No time goals. No destination goals.
I stop a lot.
This has become more of a sensory experience. I watch and smell. Walking slows things down and I feel sorry for those in cars. I watched a jet streak by with its con trail in the sky and I thought about speed. So much about civilization is about speed. Be efficient! Be productive!
Forget it. We should work harder at being more inefficient. Less productive. Stop and smell more than roses. Stop and smell everything. It is my opinion that the American Economy went south when we decided that productivity was the primary goal of an economic system. Actually, three things have destroyed the American Economy: Efficiency, Productivity and the rise of the MBA.
But I digress.
Today I was trying to get some photos of a couple of groups of California Quail. Darned near impossible to do such with a bottom of the line, Kodak Digital camera. My camera has a delay between when you squeeze the TAKE A PICTURE BUTTON and when the shutter actually responds. These pretty birds are quick. Always in a hurry. Sketchy as hell. And even though I couldn't get the shot, it didn't bother me. I am becoming more and more detached from being linear.
I feel like Ferdinand from the classic children's story.
2 comments:
I don't know Ferdinand (I sort of skipped over all the children's lit except Dr. Seuss and the Hardy Boys) but I know Henry agrees with you.
"I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks, who had a genius, so to speak, for sauntering; which word is beautifully derived "from idle people who roved about the country, in the middle ages, and asked charity, under pretence of going à la Sainte Terre"—to the holy land, till the children exclaimed, "There goes a Sainte-Terrer", a saunterer—a holy-lander. They who never go to the holy land in their walks, as they pretend, are indeed mere idlers and vagabonds, but they who do go there are saunterers in the good sense, such as I mean. Some, however, would derive the word from sans terre, without land or a home, which, therefore, in the good sense, will mean, having no particular home, but equally at home everywhere. For this is the secret of successful sauntering."
Thanks for the HD quote! I love it...
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