Walking

I haven't been walking outside for the last few months, or maybe the last year. I honestly don't remember. i don't mean the once in a while walking around the lake with my mother-in-law. i mean the 2-3 times a week walking in my hilly neighborhood to admire the roses and trees and smell the fresh air of the day. I mean stopping at the ridge to admire Mt. Tamalpias in the west, across the bay. I mean enjoying the rhythm of my limbs swinging in syncopation, stretching and releasing, and the oxygen effortlessly pumping in and out of my lungs. I mean feeling the breeze on my cheeks, and feeling my always cold hands warm up because the blood is pumping pumping coursing through my body, all my limbs, my extremities. I mean the kind of walking that let's my mind wander, and flit like a hummingbird. Oh! Look! There's a hummingbird! And crows wheeling and cawing making fun of the air currents they glide upon. That's the kind of walking I mean.