At four km an hour, you notice different things. The little garter snake, length and width of a pencil, stopped on the gravel road but turning and trying to snap at your hiking stick when you check it out. The red-tailed hawk that circles above, complaining at your presence (or welcoming you to the land?). The golden fawn that bolts from the brush ahead and in three bounds, is back into the impenetrable bush. The badgers, the skunks, the coyotes, the yellow butterflies that jump up from a wet depression in the dirt road to flutter, a blessed cloud, around you as you walk. The chokecherries, much too sour for life in the city where there is chocolate and café au lait, but on this walk a welcome juicy mouthful for which you are immensely grateful. Maybe that is the word that sums it all up: grateful. For life at four km/hr.
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