Gleaned from an Hour-Long Walk

63 degrees and windy. Spring. iPod. Sunglasses. Time. A feast for the senses as I walk through the neighborhood. What I learned:

It takes an hour to go about a mile if you stop and smell every flower.

Peonies have a riotous smell that brings tears to my eyes; I want my life to be like that flower smells.

Songs can feel like colors; Barbara Streisand’s voice is golden-salmon stucco. She may not be black (in fact, she isn’t!) but she nails “Can’t Help Lovin’ That Man of Mine.”

James Taylor singing about Richard Nixon is surprisingly sweet.

Dave Brubeck (DBQ) doing “The Duke” increases my pace.

Peace signs spray-painted on trees are actually pleasing.

Puppies on (probable) first walks are adorable; old dogs on (probable) last walks are poignant, their owners even more so.

Carly Simon knows some narcissists.

I trip a lot. It’s a metaphor. I once fell down flat on the streets of Buenos Aires twice in two days. One of them was right after I mistakenly asked for a cheese and soap sandwich (jamon and jabon being similar words). The other was right before my husband and I agreed that we would not be willing to be a demo couple at the tango bar (which was right before we agreed to be the demo couple at the tango bar).

Paul Potts singing “Nessum Dorma” is like watching the sunset burst into purple and then end.

I, a big Phil Collins fan, briefly mistook Billy Ocean for Sir Phil. By the way, I am still bugged that my friend Kate got car-jacked (that bugs me itself), and when her car was retrieved, every single item from it was gone… except a “Phil Collins Greatest Hits.” WHAT??? Carjackers with abominable taste.

The Story song, “Fatso,” is the world’s best diet song. Actually it might be the world’s only diet song. Download it immediately and laugh.

Trombones can really talk. That trombone that sang with Laura Benanti in “Swing!” should have been Tony-nominated too.

iPods are great prayer prompters.

I absolutely love the “art” in dry cleaner’s shops. I want to own some. It’s usually felt cut-outs of the potential alteration wonders that can be performed. It’s beautiful.

“A Man Named Pearl” is coming to my neighborhood movie theater. I’ve been waiting. Friday. I’m going.

Dr. Seuss is secretly in the landscape business in my neighborhood (or God consulted with him).

Nannies are T-I-R-E-D by 5:00. Mothers are too. Children are too. Everybody would be less tired if the kids were playing in the street instead of driving to tae kwon do. As an older mother, I can tell you that playing in the street is a more useful skill later in life.

Doing something, anything actually, is better than doing nothing. Walks on 63 degree days are best of all.

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~ by Cary on May 19, 2008.

One Response to “Gleaned from an Hour-Long Walk”

  1. Cary, I am so enjoying your blog. I check it regularly, along with the Myhrees’ blog. Jennifer recently posted this quotation: “To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda, nor even in stirring people up, but in being a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one’s life would not make sense if God did not exist.”–Emmanual Cardinal Suhard

    I think you’re doing this…beginning to live your life in a crazy, abandoned-to-Christ kinda way. Keep on walking and keep on posting, living your life like that peony. Your musings carry the aroma of Christ, and they encourage me. I continue in my prayers for you and yours. Lots of love,

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