|... a place to sit and catch my breath by the water ...|
|... a stretch of pebbles, water and trees at the beach ...|
A fitbit can count the steps better than I.
I leave here in the early morning light.
Most of the sidewalk is downhill.
When the cement becomes pavement, big roots have pushed their way up, cracking the black tar, heaving it so that the ground rolls beneath my feet before I get to the water.
Along the way, I stop to look at the growth of thimble berries. I put my hand on one of the leaves and stretch it side for I know that from thumb to baby finger, the length is 6 inches.
I am right.
That leaf is six inches wide and still in baby growth.
I take a picture of my hand on it, but when I go to look at the photo, the hand looks like it belongs to an old woman.
I decide not to put that picture on the blog for it belongs to someone who is much older than me.
I watch the birds in the water down at the ocean’s edge.
The ducks are dippers, sticking their heads just under the water to get bugs, their tails slipping up to the sky.
I see a gull circle and light on the water.
Crows are calling from high in the trees.
I know that the serial tapping sound I hear is a woodpecker. I stop to look for it, but I can only hear the sound.
|... getting close to the descent to the water ...|
Another 3000 steps, all of them uphill.
I am sure the stairs that lead me back up from the ocean’s edge to the pavement are 4 stories high.
I have seen a little girl walk up them, catching her breath much less often than I have to.
The gift of walking home is that my heart rate will go up, a gift to cardiac good health.
A lovely start to my morning.