I really miss being able to walk to work. When I lived downtown, it was only 13 blocks from my apartment to the auto parts store, so it made sense to walk there and back each day — unless it was the high of summer or the dead of winter, in which case the elements were terribly unpleasant. Still, the exercise and fresh air were fantastic.
Now I live about a half-hour’s drive from town, so walking obviously isn’t an option. To make up for it, I try each day to take at least half an hour and get away from my desk to walk up to the park and back. It’s refreshing getting out of the stuffy office and away from the paperwork and phones, and even though there’s the noise of traffic to deal with, just being outside is much calmer and much more serene than staring at a repair order while listening to an engine revving or a belt squealing in the shop.
With all the rain we’ve had lately I haven’t had the chance to get out, and today I was really feeling it. So I got an opportunity for an extra long walk down to the bookkeeper’s office to pick up payroll and tax forms. Normally I’d drive, but the 28 blocks round-trip sounded much too tempting on my restless legs. The air felt frigid when I first left the office, but by the time I reached the main street I was sweating — and oddly glad for it. I tend to walk pretty fast so the exercise felt great and it got me comfortably warm, so even in the winter temperatures I was taking my jacket off and pushing up the sleeves on my shirt, enjoying the fresh air and sunlight on my bare arms.
Though my hometown isn’t spotless, it is fairly quaint and charming, so there’s lots of neat little details to admire up-close on a walk. There’s a particular stretch that I really enjoy because all along the sidewalk are half-barrels filled with brightly-colored marigolds. This time of year they’re not faring well, of course, but some of the other plants were growing brilliantly and added color and cheer to the day.
While I walked — and especially since I was headed in a different direction than usual — I tried to focus on simple beauties: a handsome new building with stunning architectural detail and charm, an interesting tile pattern on a wall, a young Golden Retriever walking its person 
, a bird flitting around in a tree, a whimsical shop window display. There’s a new coffee shop in town that I’ve been meaning to visit but haven’t had a chance, but I did get to walk by it for the first time today and it looks interesting — a charming arrangement, but all the art on display is fairly modern and that doesn’t quite suit my tastes. A few doors down is a bridal shop, and every Christmas they put out the same two gowns that I can’t seem to take my eyes off of. I’m really not a dress person, but these are lovely: one is red and one is green, but they’re both strapless, have full skirts, and the bodice is subtly but stunningly bejeweled. Every time I drive by that shop I sigh a little, imagining a fancy party with women in long evening gowns and men in tuxedos, drinking wine and talking gaily, dancing the night away while the orchestra plays.
On my way back from the bookkeeper’s office, a combination of the wind and my bouncing step was causing my hair to come loose from it’s sloppy twist, so I let my hair down, loving the feeling of the wind lifting it behind me as I walked. Of course, the moment I did that, every male neck turned to rubber, which I always find amusing. I’m not vain enough to think myself beautiful, but I will admit I can’t help but smile when I see a guy drive by and do a double-take, staring as I pass. And this only really happens noticeably when I let my hair down from it’s severe, businesslike, pulled-back arrangement I have to do every morning for work.
I’ve been working around cars for so long that I can usually tell a car by the sound of its starter. This was especially true when I was going to university and had to walk through endless parking lots to get from my truck to the classroom. I could hear a starter, point somewhere off to my left beyond my blind spot, and call out, “Ford,” then turn and see that I was right. Today, though, one stumped me — I heard a starter off to my right that I thought for sure belonged to a Toyota, but when I looked it was a late-model Chevy. I laughed out loud at myself and someone that happened to be passing me at the same moment turned and gave me that look that said he thought I was crazy for laughing at apparently nothing.
There’s something so liberating about a good, brisk walk through town. You get to see all sorts of little things close-up that you’d never notice while driving by. I even noticed while walking past a condemned building (why it hasn’t been taken down yet, no one can quite seem to figure out) that it had an intriguing smell to it that was actually delightful. It wasn’t the kind of thing you’d expect — not some broken down, rotting, moldy decay kind of smell, but something that was pleasant. It reminded me of some other scent, but for the life of me I still can’t pinpoint it.
I think my favorite part of today’s walk, though, was the little musical surprise that I got. Leaving the bookkeeper’s office, I could hear the droning thud of too much bass on loud speakers somewhere up ahead of me. Looking around, I noticed a black SUV with all the windows down, and a male arm resting on the driver’s door — you know, the casual I’m-too-cool-to-drive-with-both-hands thing that men do. I was thoroughly prepared to be disgusted and disappointed, certain that this would be nothing more than the typical young punk kid playing rap music. The SUV was stuck in traffic, so I caught up to it, and when I did, I was pleasantly surprised, so much so that I couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. The man was young, but clean cut and well dressed, and the music was actually U2’s Pride (In the Name of Love). Awesome. Seriously awesome. 
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