Seize the (Week)Day #6. Glimpses from the Boardwalk.

This is the sixth post in this limited series of excursions taken on early weekday mornings in the month of June. If you missed the reason I ventured out so early, you can read about it here.

This excursion was on June 22nd and began at Dingell Park on a gorgeous, almost nippy, Pure Michigan morning. After hanging out at the pavilion area, I meandered along the boardwalk, chattin’ it up with a fisherman or two and checking out their catch of the day. My journey took me to the River’s Edge Marina and back.

Lingering at the Dingell Park Pavilion.

I was positioned at the pavilion in search of seagulls, hoping to collect a few funny shots of them. One cruised lazily overhead. But unfortunately no seagulls alighted on the pavilion or boardwalk railings while stealing a glance to see if I cared to share some breakfast with them.

Mallards lined up orderly on a log while preening or snoozing …

… and one duck alternately dabbled and paddled nearby.

There was nothing much to see here, but the spider webs on the “No Fishing” sign.

But it was an idyllic setting. A fisherman cut his motor off and dropped a line.

Suddenly, the ducks plopped off the log into the water and sped toward, then beneath the pavilion – what in the world? The seagulls likewise exited the sky. So what was up?

Mystified, I shaded my eyes from the bright sun and looked out onto the water – nothing amiss there. I decided to walk down the boardwalk. When I whirled around, I had my answer why everyone left in a hurry: a Red-Tailed Hawk! How long had it been lurking up there and why didn’t I turn around sooner as it was looming large in the tree right behind where I was standing?!?!

That Hawk’s appearance sure explained the absence of ducks and seagulls. After we checked each other out, Mr. Hawk left.

The early bird catches the worm.

Evidently there had already been some fisherpersons lurking about, as I saw several containers of night crawlers along the boardwalk.

I stopped this gentleman to peer into his bucket of fish and he had just landed one, so I asked him to pose with it. I learned it was a Wide-Mouthed Bass in case you fish aficionados out there wanted to know.

Well, nothing much was happenin’ on the Boardwalk either, save for a heron that blitzed by me, shrieking its head off …

… as if I was tormenting it. I wondered if Mr. Hawk would tangle with Mr. Heron and decided the latter was safe and did not need me running interference for it.

Along the way to the Marina.

Since photo pickin’s were slim at Dingell Park, I decided to walk to the River’s Edge Marina, about a half-mile away. In the past, I used to walk from home, down Emmons Boulevard, across the double set of railroad tracks, then I’d stop at the Marina before returning home. That was a nice, four-mile jaunt to a picturesque place, where the rowing club usually pushed off early Saturday morning and sometimes, if I was lucky, I’d see the train crossing in the background, its boxcars gaily decorated with graffiti which reflected nicely on the calm water. It was a trip I made almost all year around, but usually on the weekend, in case I got stopped by a long train. After I discovered Council Point Park in 2013, the trips here were few and far between. The boardwalk stretches along the Detroit River at Jefferson Avenue.

This dock looks a little desolate.

I wondered if there was a boating incident/death when I saw this memorial.

The reflections were great, but the train was nowhere to be seen in this scene.

It was serene, the water very calm, with no boaters, rowers … not even a single duck had ventured out. I returned to Dingell Park, taking a photo of the pavilion area as I walked toward it.

It wasn’t the longest walk I’ve been on in Summer when I can leave earlier and get in extra steps – I went three miles. I could afford to be generous and give myself some slack regarding my lack of steps since it was only June. (I hope I don’t get to the last days of 2021 and then be missing a couple of miles which I could have done that day.)

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(Finally) Fall!  #Wordless Wednesday  #They’re happy; I’m happy too: 1,000 miles/1,609 kms.

#Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

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Transitions …

Here we are on the cusp of Fall – I don’t know about you, but in my opinion it sure is welcome.

Autumn has always been my favorite season anyway, even if it leads up to Winter, my least-favorite season. I love the chill in the air, sweatshirts and long pants and the sound of crisp leaves crunching beneath my shoes. But unfortunately these seasons often clash here in Southeast Michigan, bringing us snow and ice long before the calendar’s official date of Winter.

It was not just a warm and toasty Summer, but hot and steamy was the more accurate description as the Metro region was the ninth hottest on record since 1874, with 15 days over 90 F/32 C. My weather radio was shrieking incessantly. I kept track of the severe storm forecasts – 19 as of last week. I’m sure I have a few new wrinkles and gray hairs from the worrisome and volatile weather. It was also the seventh rainiest Summer on record for us as we are near 20 inches/50 cms. But the past few days, there was a definite nip in the air that caused me to don long sleeves and pants.

The seasons have been clashing here a lot the last few weeks.

At first, the changes were subtle and began around mid-August with the different angle of the sun as I headed east toward Council Point Park. The glare of the sun instantly darkened my glasses and, at times, made it almost impossible to see. This sun’s angle suddenly spotlighted the iridescent trails where slugs had inched across City sidewalks while I was fast asleep. Also hard at work in the overnight hours were spiders spinning massive webs, seemingly in thin air, hooking them from a house to a tree or bush that I passed by. Those webs are nearly invisible … that is, until a web cloaks you in sticky filaments … ugh! As a person who both fears and loathes spiders, I know I must look funny frantically clawing the air to rid myself of the web.

Meanwhile, at Council Point Park the leaves have been drifting down to the path and bright yellow Poplar leaves litter the surface of the Creek making the water look polka-dotted. Sloppy V-formations of geese honk noisily overhead as they confer among themselves whether to grab a bite of grass at the Park or continue on to a bigger and maybe better grazing venue.

Amazingly, the first hints of color showed up as early as August 4th this Summer. I took a photo of my watch so I wouldn’t forget the date.

Sometimes rose-colored glasses are in order at this venue.

This Park has been my happy place since I discovered it in 2013.

Just because I’ve not written about my encounters with my furry and feathered friends lately does not mean I’ve abandoned this venue – not at all; I just didn’t take many photos there this Summer. At times my favorite nature nook has been downright cringe-worthy, especially as I recall Summers in the past with neatly trimmed paths and complete shoreline access to the water. Then I took funny photos of Parker or the other squirrels, Harry the Heron fishing or occasional encounters with the ducks and geese.

But the Park, as well as the grass-mowing crew, just like so many other recreational venues, businesses and the like, evidently lacks enough employees to have a substantial workforce to enable the Park to stay as pristine as in the past. Thus, there have been three organized volunteer cleanups this Summer. But I guess that is just for trash?

The Park used to be mowed weekly, yet this year, even in the peak growing season, it was only mowed every three or four weeks. Using the weed whipper for edging and trimming has not been done at all this year. You can see the difference where I fed the critters from Fall through Spring and after the weeds grew over my ankles, I abandoned walking over to the log and stump area to leave peanuts, sunflower seeds or any other treats for the squirrels and birds for fear of ticks, maybe mice or even snakes. The weeds are way past my knees now.

Before:

After:

Nor have I crept close to the banks of the Ecorse Creek to capture images of turtles lined up on a log on sunny mornings due to the high grass and weeds along the shoreline. Sit down for a spell … well maybe not; besides the view is not so great.

The graffiti has languished on cement walls and garbage cans all Summer as well.

The squirrels and birds are not always showing up for peanuts either.

I’ve already mentioned the presence of hawks at Council Point Park. In the past, it might have been an occasional hawk just passing through, but now there are a pair of juvenile Red-Tailed Hawks routinely streaking through the skies on a daily basis. They work together: one chases the squirrel and when it scurries toward the nearest tree, the other hawk tries to grab it. Thankfully, I’ve only heard about this and not witnessed it, but the squirrels seem very wary of the presence of these hawks and often, as I walk along the path, I hear the squirrel warning cries coming from the tall trees.

As I write this post on Saturday afternoon, I must tell you that this morning, at my usual time, I walked the entire perimeter path without seeing one squirrel. That is odd indeed. This time of year they are gathering nuts to squirrel away and usually are starting to get chubby in advance of the colder weather. I always leave a stash of peanuts in what I’ve deemed the three safest spots in the Park: the Weeping Mulberry Tree (a/k/a “The Safe Haven Tree”), as well as in the grass as close as I will get to the fallen log/stump area mentioned above and I’ve also been leaving peanuts on the picnic table under the pavilion roof, all safe spots away from hawks (hopefully), though my little buddies often run away from the safe spots to bury a peanut, thus exposing themselves to the hawks. I saw another hawk this morning, watching and waiting from his perch in a dead tree. I didn’t take pictures as I got those close-ups a few weeks ago. We stared at one another until he eventually flew away. Perhaps the squirrels saw that hawk too as none ventured out to the path. It makes me sad as the squirrels, as well as the Jays, Cardinals and even the Red-Bellied Woodpeckers scamming peanuts from those squirrels, are always a welcome part of my morning Park experience.

It’s not all doom and gloom … there were a few things that made me smile.

Because we had so much rain, there were no Robins hunkering down near homeowners’ sprinklers to freshen their feathers or hopping through the grass blades on moist lawns while on worm-finding expeditions – that was my loss as they are rather comical to watch, but on the flip side, there were birds bathing, just splashing away in puddles in the street or in potholes. A Goldfinch sang its cheery song for me as well almost every morning.

Though dogs are not allowed in the Park, people bring them anyway, usually on a leash, but this young woman carried her dog named “Lola” in a bag every day, even during those wicked “Dog Days of Summer” – yes those days were aptly named!

I hope to reach 1,000 miles/1,609 kilometers walked by the first day of Fall. I had to really step up my game as the sun has been getting up later and later, essentially shaving steps off my daily total. That will leave me just 256 miles/411 kilometers to get ‘er done by year end. Whew! Wish me luck! Forward, then onward and upward!

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Sunflowers … not ready for prime time yet.  #Wordless Wednesday #Gettin’ there!

#Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

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A lifelong love of lavender.

It is said that our sense of smell is linked closely to memory, thus certain smells can whisk us back to earlier periods of time in a heartbeat.

The smell of lavender is ingrained in my memory and this is because my maternal grandmother, Minnie Goddard, always smelled of lavender. Her skin, her clothes and even her bedroom, smelled like potpourri.

As a kid, all I remember about Sunday dinner at my grandparents’ house was the menu of pot roast or roast chicken – nourishing yes, nondescript and kind of blah, well yes and nothing that a kid would remember fondly decades later. Dessert was always a Canadian staple – butter tarts. So there are no FOOD smells that would evoke memories of time spent at my grandparents’ house.

But, there are scents … if that makes sense.

As a kid, when I visited my grandparents’ house there were two distinct smells – lavender and liniment. The former was my grandmother who always smelled like lavender and the latter was my grandfather, who, if the liniment didn’t wake up your nostrils, the perpetual cloud of cigar or pipe smoke swirling about him did. Even if he was the type of grandfather who encouraged you to climb up into his lap, (and he was not), who wanted to sit in that cloud of smoke anyway? And, as I write this post, I wonder if perhaps initially the lavender fascination was to combat the liniment and smoke aromas?

So, lavender was a definite improvement – sort of. Lavender scent is pleasing to the nose when you smell it growing in the fields, or in a garden. Just a little whiff of lavender under your pillow can lull you to sleep. But a lot of lavender – maybe not so much. Let’s just say Nanny liked lavender. A lot of lavender. Her nightstand and dresser drawers were stuffed with Yardley soaps that friends or relatives brought years before when they came to visit Minnie for tea, or especially around the time the annual “Ex” (Canadian National Exhibition) was on in Toronto in late August. There were always dainty sachet packets layered between nighties and ahem, what used to be called your “unmentionables” – yes indeed.

As a child, I learned early on about Nanny’s infatuation with the scent of lavender. This was especially true during her working years, due to her fondness for long, leisurely baths in the old clawfoot bathtub. At the end of a long day of standing on her feet at work, then falling asleep on the streetcar and usually missing her stop, she would wearily trudge up the stairs to the second floor where she indulged in “me time” (before that word was fashionable) with a selection of bath salts, soap and perfumed talc or dusting powder in this scent. Then relaxed and smelling of lavender from head to toe, she began to make dinner. Nanny’s nightly ritual was Yardley’s of London Lavender EVERYTHING.

When I became a teenager, she decided a rite of passage for her granddaughter was to gift me with a fancy, ribbon-tied box containing a fluffy powder puff in a round box of dusting powder, soap in a purple wrapper and eau de toilette (a fancy-schmancy translation for “toilet water” or a light cologne) in her favorite scent.

Now, I may have loved Nanny with all my heart, but I really didn’t love lavender. In fact, I thought it was a little too strong to be infiltrating my nostrils all day long – translation: it gave me a headache. But being a gracious girl, I thanked her and smiled sweetly as I would never hurt her feelings. Though she’s been gone 35 years, she never knew the truth.

Happy Grandparents Day if it applies!!!

[Vintage Yardley Lavender products circa 1960s from Pinterest]

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Every picture told a story.

About 99.9% of my blog posts tell a story and they all revolve around me. But today, to honor the events of September 11, 2001, I am going to let someone else tell the story, but in images set to music. I recently read about a University of Michigan professor who was releasing his private archive of 20 rolls of film shot in New York City on that fateful morning. This Pulitzer Prize winning photographer, David Turnley, paired his images with Bruce Springsteen’s song “Lift Me Up” to create this amazing video. The reason was simple and straightforward. He said “I am posting this work to honor—20 years later—all those who lost their lives and those who risked their lives to help.”

You can click here to see the YouTube video.

If you are on Instagram, Professor Turnley has included more photos in a six-day Instagram series available at @davidturnley.

If you are old enough to remember 9-11, (and that is 80% of us), the images we saw on the TV news and in newspapers the next day are something we will never forget.

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Meet Mr. Hawk, my furry friends’ nemesis. #Wordless Wednesday #Ruffled feathers (his/mine)

#Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

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A range of emotions.

I will admit that I have strayed a bit from my “Seize the Day” series of excursions taken in June, but I wanted to share the news of my 10th anniversary of walking and my 60th anniversary of beginning school (gulp); there will be a post to pause and remember the 20th anniversary of 9/11 and then there is Grandparents Day … whew! I’ll resume that series on September 13th. At the rate I am going, I’ll be doing June events through the Fall.

From sad … to mad … to glad.

On August 23rd I had a range of emotions in the span of about a half-hour. Every day that I walk, I try to exit the house with my mind a blank slate – there is way too much clutter in my brain, so I like to give it a rest while I walk and just absorb nature’s sights and sounds, many which end up percolating into a post.

There are a couple of backstories to this cheery chalk art.

On the morning of August 23rd, I was not going straight to the Park as I had to drop my car off. And, speaking of anniversaries, my car will be eleven years old this week and it only has 8,760 miles on it. But, just like its owner, it is sometimes a little quirky – especially lately. For example, the driver’s side window started going down on its own and I was worried it would disappear one day and not roll back up. The air conditioner quit working in June, despite having a charge in August 2020. But the most worrisome idiosyncrasy of late is the door locks. They either don’t open at all on the passenger side, or unlock and/or lock themselves on their own volition on the driver’s side, without any rhyme or reason. Sigh.

Before leaving the house, as has been my practice of late, I set out peanuts and an ice pop on the porch for Two-Tone and her youngsters. Though I’ve not seen Two-Tone in about a month, two solid-black young squirrels, believed to her kin, have beaten a path across the street just as soon as I opened the front door. One of the two squirrels was a little more eager to run across than the other. But both scoped out the door from their nest in the tree across the street. Just two days before, one of them spotted me, then dashed halfway across the street, saw a car, double-backed and went up the utility pole. It was a cringe-worthy sight and a close call. I was sure I could see it shaking like a leaf from my vantage point. I shook my head and wondered aloud “is it time to stop feeding them, or maybe just look for them on the opposite side of the street when I go out before there is an accident?”

Sadly, I was prophetic, because on August 23rd that indeed happened. I no sooner got everything on the porch and one black squirrel scrambled through the front garden and up onto the porch. I scolded it for being careless and said “I have to take the car out – stay here or cross over now, so Linda doesn’t roll over you and please watch for the cars – you almost got killed the other day!”

I shut the door, grabbed the keys and came around the house to open the garage and gasped. I couldn’t miss the black body lying in the street. My eyes misted up and I was sad, not to mention sorry … sorry I started feeding them on the porch, sorry I saw the aftermath of my good deeds.

Then I was mad … mad at the drivers who race up/down the street in a 25 mph zone. One day it will be a child. In the Summer of 1997, I pulled a child out of harm’s way when I was out doing yardwork and saw her ride her tricycle down a driveway into the street and path of an oncoming large truck that was barreling down from Fort Street. I caught her in the nick of time and pulled her by the arm to safety. She was oblivious to what nearly happened; I was upset, but relieved and the truck driver just kept going.

As bad as I felt about this little squirrel, I couldn’t dwell on my furry friend’s demise as I had an 8:00 a.m. appointment and I aimed to walk afterward at the Park and get there ASAP. I had to share the tale, with fellow peanut-dispensing walkers, that the day before two juvenile hawks, working together, were chasing and attempting to nab squirrels, so we all needed to be careful to place peanuts near bushes where the squirrels could take cover easily. That of course, doesn’t mean the squirrels won’t run off to the middle of the Park to bury the peanuts.

I dropped off the car and began to walk home to pick up the bag of peanuts I left hanging on the cellarway railing. Then I indulged myself in a little cry and played the blame game – was it my fault versus the driver’s fault or my furry friend’s fault, who, in its zeal to get peanuts, raced across the street meeting its fate. Obviously no one said to look both ways as was drilled into my brain as soon as I was allowed to walk to school on my own – my mom was hit by a car at age 11 and spent the next four years in the hospital and had 41 orthopedic operations in her lifetime, the result of one careless moment.

So, my heart was heavy and I was still misted up, as I came upon this chalk art.

There is a backstory here as well. Just the day before, I was walking to the Park and a man was sitting on the porch of this home. He had a huge dog, that was panting heavily, sitting next to him. “Morning” I called out and he responded in kind. I stopped and said “you know, I love dogs, but I’m scared of your two dogs, especially this one. I walk by your house most days if I don’t drive and your two dogs see me and lunge at the window, barking ferociously. The big one actually makes the window jiggle. I’ve taken to walking on the other side of the street unless your drapes are closed. But then I would miss the great chalk art which I photograph and use in my blog.” He smiled and said “I will tell her you like the chalk art and she loves doing it.” He added that the dog was a Rottweiler/Shepherd mix and big and yes … scary. We chitchatted about the weather and the neighborhood and before I left I said “perhaps your dog saw us talking and smiling and knows I’m no threat now.” He smiled and told me to have a great day and I went on my way.

Flash forward 24 hours.

I was walking down Pagel Avenue with a heavy heart plus thinking about all the expenses to be incurred with the car, when I came upon the City sidewalk and leading to the front door of this same house. They were filled with colorful chalk art and inspirational messages. I have to assume my compliments were given to the young girl and this is the result … at least I’d like to think that. The chalk art improved my mood immeasurably and I took these photos to memorialize the artwork. The living room drapes were open, so I gave a “thumbs up” to the window since no one was outside. Hopefully the family members, not just the pooches, saw my gesture. I was glad I walked this way, mentioned the artwork – it all kind of came together in a positive way.

Thank you sweetie for your cheer and wise words … they meant a lot to me. And, as for these words “Keep moving forward” in this chalk art …

… the entire quote is below.

“If you can’t fly, then run; if you can’t run, then walk; if you can’t walk, then crawl; but whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward.” ~~Martin Luther King, Jr.

Posted in #ChalkYourWalk, walk, walking | Tagged , , , | 51 Comments

Time flies …

It simply CANNOT be sixty years ago today that I began kindergarten at E.A. Orr Elementary School. Yes … it was on September 5, 1961. I will tell you that for several years before beginning school, every afternoon Mom and I practiced math using “Smarties” (the Canadian version of M&Ms) and she gave me spelling and vocabulary lists to learn as well. Reading my storybooks was done after dinner while my parents read the newspaper. I don’t remember how old I was when I was able to rattle off “My name is Linda Susan Schaub; I live at 497 Sandmere Place, Oakville, Ontario, Canada and my phone number is Valley 7-3219.” I know it is ingrained in my brain, as I recalled it very easily to write this post.

So … for the life of me, when I zoomed in on these photos of my first day of school, what a surprise to see my name tag with my last name spelled horribly wrong. I hope that Mrs. Kellett made that spelling boo-boo and not me! Also, I note I was wearing white “Mary Janes” and it was after Labor Day! What kind of fashion statement was that back in the day?!

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“Not all those who wander are lost.” ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Today is the 10th anniversary of my walking regimen that I began on Friday, September 2, 2011, the gateway to the Labor Day weekend. I had finished up watering and puttering around in the yard, and, though it was hot and muggy, I decided if I was going to continue to work from home, I needed more exercise than just gardening or going to the grocery store. I was concerned for my health, as I was parked in front of the computer way too many hours and this was long before blogging became such a big part of my life, logging lots of additional online time.

Heart problems run in the family on my mom’s side – my grandmother and seven of her eight siblings died of heart disease and my mom had a heart arrhythmia …

… so, I knew I had to begin an exercise regimen sooner, rather than later, besides just my exercise bike, which use had dwindled in the warmer months. I had tried to start a walking regimen a couple of times in late Fall while still working on site, usually after all the leaves were down and putting the yard “to bed” in late October. So, I already had a sturdy pair of walking shoes, but I really only walked on a few weekends back then, as the snow arrived and the ritual fell by the wayside. So, this time I aimed to make walking a daily habit … how tough could that be anyway?

I went into the house, slipped off my garden boots and swapped them for a pair of socks and those aforesaid walking shoes.

And, so it began … just one City block on my street at first, then building up one block at a time, one day at a time, until I found a route and stuck with it. I didn’t want to risk shin splints, so I walked at a slow-to-moderate pace at first.

I bought a pedometer to begin tracking my steps and I am still using that same pedometer. Next, I bought some cushioned Thorlos walking socks to give me an added bounce to my step. I was happy to be doing something heart smart.

My morning meanders took me to the footbridge over the Ecorse Creek and back. That yielded 2 ½ miles of steps and I began jotting down my daily mileage. I walked the same route through the neighborhoods, down tree-lined Emmons Boulevard where I watched homeowners’ harvest décor go up, leaves turning jewel-toned colors, then crunching under my heavy walking shoes. Soon it was Halloween and I was amused by squirrels ravaging cornstalks and chomping on pumpkin displays. Christmas wreaths soon adorned front doors and sometimes, in the early morning, holiday lights still twinkled merrily, cheering my march down the Boulevard. The Winter of 2011-2012 was kind to me, with few snowfalls. It was serendipity that I discovered Council Point Park in April 2013, and, as longtime readers know, that is my go-to spot and favorite nature nook of all.

The neighborhood gives me a chance to hear the birds singing, or splashing away in the puddles from potholes, or in the street from all the rain and I get to see and smell the flowers along the way.

So, here I am, ten years later, still savoring my morning ritual, though admittedly, this Summer it has been increasingly tough to stay motivated. In past Summers when the temps and humidity were over-the-top oppressive, I walked the perimeter at Meijer grocery store multiple times to get my steps in. It felt great walking in the air-conditioned store and I’d wave hello to the clerks in the produce section as I ambled along the apples and sashayed past the string beans. On horribly hot mornings, I hung out in the frozen section initially to quickly cool off. This Summer, however, my Meijer store is undergoing a massive remodeling effort and it’s a little topsy-turvy there, so I’ve just dealt with the weather and grumbled about it … a lot.

Last week we had heat indices in triple digits every afternoon and the humidity, dew points and temps were oppressive. It’s been wicked some mornings, but I just go out, since soon enough there will be ice, snow and bitter cold to contend with. As you know, I savored the coolish mornings by escaping on excursions, but those mornings were few and far between. We’ve had many rainy days that spoiled a walk since mid-June. I am no fan of walking in the rain, having taken the bus to and from downtown to work and to school for three decades, where I had no choice, but to deal with the elements. I’ll walk if it’s misty, but raindrops falling on my head don’t thrill me, even if they are followed by a rainbow.

I am hanging in there and still hoping to reach my goal of 1,256 miles (2021 kilometers) by December 31st. To that end, I have been walking five to six miles daily, but I realize the later sunrise will be problematic by the end of September, then black ice, followed by snow and ice, will be my enemy. I am currently at 908 miles (1,461 kilometers). Yay me …though I’d probably have gleaned more miles had I not stopped to visit with the squirrels or take pictures of fun and fantastic chalk art along the way.

This post’s title was a quote and I will end the post with a quote:

“The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say”
~J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Posted in #ChalkYourWalk, goal, walk, walking | Tagged , , , | 78 Comments