I love a good walk. It’s an opportunity to observe the world and think.
It can be a good time to dream. Sometimes I relax. Other times, I organize thoughts.
It’s a beautiful way to escape the near constant chatter of life.
Leave the phone at home. Breathe in the air. Discover animals and faces in the clouds.
Sometimes, I’ll meditate to my footfalls. Slowly, methodically until I lose myself in the quiet of the day.
Sometimes details reveal themselves to me on my walks — things I never see while driving around a city or town.
An excited compliment from a restaurant patron to the owners.
A ballon-making clown entertaining a small group of children in a playground.
A cookie company to which I plan to return. I make a mental note and return to my footfalls.
Sometimes my thoughts race.
Sometimes — not often — I have no thoughts at all.
And sometimes, a narrative plays out that I never anticipated. Or ideas find attractive partners in my head.
Always — at the end of my walk — I appreciate time used well.
Time to look.
Time to smell.
Time to listen.
Time for myself.
Most times, as my walk draws to a close, I remind myself to do this more often.