1 min read

The art of walking

I walked until each distracting thought trailed down into the beat of my feet, slowly left behind in the crumbling dirt.

Today, I walked all day.

We started at the mouth of the estuary, a wide meandering loop that led us back there. The sun had panned to the other side of the sky by the time we had dawdled in its brightness over a comparatively tiny acreage of the world.

I ate sandwiches on the peak of the hill, seeded with salad, warm from being on my back most of the day.

We got lost in dunes and found a different path way through thick grasses that tore against our thighs.

We took off tightly laced boots and tied them around our necks to cross a deep river. Then we left them off, because we felt the sand between our toes and wanted more.

I walked until each distracting thought trailed down into the beat of my feet, slowly left behind in the crumbling dirt.

I did not tick off any items from any to-do lists.

Arguably, I didn't do anything that was productive.

Arguably, I did.