Today I was scheduled to walk with a friend. We had developed this Tuesday routine back in the fall when I was newly retired and she was between jobs. Since then, her new employment and the cold weather brought an interruption to our weekly visits, but we were both able to walk today.
When I stopped my car in the park, I found her text message saying she wouldn’t be able to make it after all. I started to go on home and “get some things done” and then I stopped…
There were several walkers already on the trail.
Each was walking alone.
I could walk by myself.
And so I did. As I started the trek I wished I had brought along my camera. There were so many things to see. And so much to think about along the way.
The bright sun low in the sky, shining like a spotlight in my eyes.
How I have missed that warmth on so many recent gloomy days.
The little gray squirrel scampering across the path right in front of me.
He wasn’t frightened of me at all, must be used to walkers crossing his path.
The sparkling dew on the blades of freshly greening grass.
Such perfect work – not one blade was overlooked – complete and equal coverage, beyond human capability.
The azure sky with only jet trails as clouds.
So many trails – so many travelers. How happy I am to be at home.
The tiny leaves emerging from the privet limb sticks.
They know deep down that spring is coming, so they came on out without delay to celebrate.
The dried white hackberries covering parts of the path.
Do all living things lose their color as they age?
The chalk messages of hope and redemption spaced along the way.
Starting with the wages of sin, and including the important repentance message the takes us to the ending assurance of God’s eternal love and presence.
There were sounds to notice – the bird songs! – and smells – freshly cut grass! – as well.
As I talked with God along the way, I didn’t ask for anything more. I could only express thanksgiving for oh, so many blessings in my life.
I missed walking with you, my friend, but I had lots of company along the way.