On an early summer’s day, I took a walk. Not a new walk or a particularly exciting walk – though I never take for granted the ever-changing constant view as I cross the river – but one which affords me time to catch up with podcasts and exercise my often too-sedentary limbs.
Should I add the bolt-on bit? I wondered as I wandered. Do I need an extra few minutes? Is it worth the effort?
Yes, I urged myself. Why not? You’re doing okay; it’s fine.
And so on I went. I rounded the corner into the street and suddenly
My senses kept getting overridden by one another, couldn’t get enough, couldn’t stop looking, smelling, feeling, as if a multitude of blessings were crowded down one inconsequential little road and looked to me in return for escape.
Well done, I congratulated myself. What a happy decision to continue, to follow my feet, to lift my head and heart and smell the roses as I walked on.