Deer

I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again: Bill Watterson was right when via Calvin & Hobbes he commented that there's magic everywhere.

We set out to walk today a bit after 11:00 a.m. The temperature and humidity were both already in the 90's, with the heat index over 95 (all Fahrenheit). We reached the last downhill stretch of the half mile headed away from my house, and there at the foot of the small hill, standing in the middle of the road, were three deer, a mother and her two very young children. We kept walking but slowed our pace, and for a few magic moments they stayed there, oblivious of everything, paying us no obvious heed and staying still in the hot morning.

Then, quite correctly, they ran into the woods.

Made my morning.

Walking

Six days a week, I walk two miles at a pace ranging from downright challenging (sub 15 minutes per mile) to faster than most cover the same turf but no real strain (sub 20 minutes per mile). I used to jog, but a foot injury and my stupid unwillingness to go to a doctor has kept me out of that for a year and a half. Allyn and Jennie walk with me most days, though Jennie will bag on the days when the heat index is into the nineties or above. Sometimes, Sarah or Scott will join us as well. On days when the heat is tolerable, we take Holden and Shibori. The dogs respond well to walking with us, because on the walk the world is functioning as they think it should: they're moving, they're in the outdoors, and they're with a bunch of members of their pack.

I get that.

The way my life works, for years I was basically never outside. House to car to company office to car to lunch to car to company office to home--my contact with the external world lasted the minimum amount of time that was reasonably possible. I was comfortable enough that way, and it simply was the way things were.

Now, though, almost every day I spend a half hour or more outside simply walking my little corner of the world, the half-mile stretch of my neighborhood's road. I still can't name plants--brain software defect, I kid you not--but I am always aware the world is there. I've come to find it quite grounding.

You still won't encounter me on a camping trip--my idea of roughing it is a three-star hotel with room service that closes early and slow Internet connections--but I'm glad to be touching the physical world for this little time each day.