So this morning, for the first time since December, I decided to get up and go for a walk, the way I had begun so many mornings before having that surgery done.
Usually I walk in the park, but this morning that would have meant moving my husband's car to get mine out. And since I'm just not sure I have the coordination yet to manage the clutch with this foot, I decided to just walk up and down our street.
I felt a little disappointed, because the park is so beautiful, and I miss those morning walks.
But I decided to keep my eyes open and enjoy the beauty of a little city street. And before long, I found myself taking pictures, because here is what I saw, walking less than a mile up and down my own street.
I wonder if squirrels or fairies swing here? So tiny.
So thankful to live on a street with shade from many large--really large--trees.
From a time when those who laid sidewalks were acknowledged for their work,
and I imagine took more pride in it. Most of the street's sidewalks are still intact.
Plenty of these little guys around.
I wasn't expecting to see the moon.....
....and then looked up and even saw stars.
Moss breaking the stereotype, growing on the east side of the tree.
And in the cracks of the bricks...I just love it.
No place like home.
(And nothing like looking at it from across the street to give you a new perspective.
I had never noticed that silver, crooked pipe thing up there by the chimney!)
"the trees still heartrendingly asparkle"
(read in a poem by C.K. Williams)
They aren't exactly sparkling, but the light coming through
is heartrendingly beautiful when you stand there and feel it....
Childhood helicopter memories!
More stars asparkle.
And the younger, more intense purple.
And the beautiful sight of my own feet walking, and really not struggling too much with it.
While I still look forward to getting back in the routine of walking in the park, one could hardly wish for a more beautiful first morning walk. So much joy comes with being open and noticing what is all around us, rather than so often wishing for things that are not.
I'm reminded of the line in Thornton Wilder's Our Town--
"Does anyone ever realize life while they live it? Every, every minute?"
And, "Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you."