Come Walk with Me

 

Tuesday, May 8, 2012 – Come Walk with Me

Elliott and I have developed a comfortable exercise routine, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy some variety on occasion.  Today, for example, I had a mid-morning doctor’s appointment, so instead of rushing through a work out at the gym, I decided to take a walk in the neighborhood right after breakfast.  I knew it wouldn’t produce that sweat-soaked euphoria that concludes my sessions at the gym, but it would offer other benefits.  Namely, it would fulfill my desire to get an up-close view of the irises that I’d glimpsed on my recent drives. 

The sky seemed mostly overcast when I set out, but gray skies can be fascinating.  If you look carefully, you’ll notice an incredible mixture of different colors that change constantly with the light.  It’s a good thing I wasn’t counting on a quiet, solitary ramble.  I shared the road with trash trucks, dog walkers, and school buses.  It didn’t take long to find some irises.  In fact, in my next-door neighbor’s yard, a cluster of miniature irises poked their heads over the hostas.  When I continued around the corner, I found irises of an unusual hue, a reddish violet.  More surprises soon followed:  lush white peonies; roses the color of a raspberry popsicle; an overzealous clematis climbing up a utility wire and latching onto a red Japanese maple. 

Soon the sun was breaking through the clouds, drawing out the intensity of the colors.  Sounds swelled, as mothers, waiting with their children for the school bus, exchanged greetings over the mega-decibel symphony of lawn maintenance crews.  A lone crow called out for attention amidst the cacophony. 

I glanced up at a tall blue spruce as I continued on my way.  Pale new growth appeared at the tips of its branches, in stark contrast to the older needles.   And a little further down the street, a virtual grove of stately iris came into view – pale peach and buttery yellow, along with the more familiar blue violet.  Running right along the roadside, tiny wild strawberries wove their way through the tall grass.  And some bushes that looked like nandina sported bright red berries.  Is that possible?  If it is, I wonder what’s wrong with my nandina. 

The reality of rush hour reasserted itself on Prince William Drive.  Drivers routinely ignore the 25 miles per hour posted speed limit, so I was especially attentive as I walked along.  I stopped to inhale the sweet aroma of newly blooming honeysuckle, and to watch the barely trembling waters of the stream.  Then I noticed something truly wonderful – baby pinecones.  Yes, snuggled into their beds of slender needles, the baby pinecones are just emerging.   Not all of the pines, however, seemed to have pinecones.  Are there perhaps male and female pine trees? 

And then there was the yard I think of as our local Versailles.  The owners of this property take the opposite of my own minimalist approach to landscaping.  Statues, benches, columns, pedestals, terracing, stone walls, and patios abound.  And they’re not finished yet.  Bags of mulch, and piles of stone bricks and pavers attest to a new project about to get underway.  They must be determined to incorporate every possible landscape element into their garden. 

Back in my own front yard, I witnessed the fading and withering azalea blossoms yielding the spotlight to the younger, fresher beauties of the season.  And I must stop now if I want to get to that doctor’s appointment on time.  The walking route that normally takes me about 25 minutes ended up taking twice that long today because I stopped so often to scribble on an index card I’d stuck my pocket.  (I’m not one of those talented multi-taskers who can walk and write at the same time.)  Note to self:  stick two – no, make that three – index cards in pocket next time.