Moving with the Wild Grasses

I summoned up the energy for a walk to 2nd Beach this “weekend”. I wasn’t able to do it on Tuesday the most pleasant of the two days, but I managed a walk on a cloudy, moody Wednesday.

The seawall was nearly deserted and it felt like the middle of winter but those kinds of walks are usually very pleasant as peace and quiet rules.

It was chilly and I wore my winter coat but it was not quite cold enough to warrant a cap and so I let the cool breeze caress my ears and ruffle my hair as I walked. It was quite different weather than the previous day when I wore my t-shirt only on errands outside.

That day I thought of my son Ky, who has now made the transition from the heat of Delhi to the northern areas of Uttar Pradesh and the holy city of Varanasi (Benares) on the Ganges. It is a relief to know he is not idling in the stifling 100 degrees plus heat of Delhi.

There were very few cargo ships out in the bay but there were quite a few herons waiting for a ripple or a flickering image that would signal fishing time.

As I walked my eyes feasted on daffodils, tulips, dandelions and bluebells resting in elfin groves in the shadows of the tall new-leafed trees. I feel so very lucky to be able to walk into the coming spring season free of a cane to lean on.

As I approached 2nd Beach I contemplated extending my walk to 3rd Beach but for whatever reason and since my “accident” last summer I have felt a significant drop in my energy and my balance still has not returned to normal.

Last week I could only summon up the energy to get half way to 2nd Beach and so I felt that making it the whole way this week was enough of a success.

It is strange though to see my image in windows as I walk by these days. Gone is the spring and stride of the younger man I once was and in its place I see a more humble, slower moving grey-haired person in my peripheral vision, one I still have trouble recognizing as me.

It gives me pause to realize that my friends and co-workers will also recognize this shift of energy in me. But I guess this is a taste of what the word senior really means in physical terms.

This will have to be my time to learn to move slowly and gracefully and in the rhythm of the wild grasses.