She finds herself walking out the front door into the cool, sunny afternoon.
Perfect weather.
Not too cold. Nor too hot.
She's going to take a walk. Walk in a not so perfect circle. With various extensions. Here and there. Within her vicinity.
In solitude.
She calls it the cul-de-sac walk. Because any no outlet street must be entered. Stepped on. Curved around. Returning her to the main path.
She locks the front door behind her. Leaves the empty of people house to settle into its own solitude.
North of her are the hills. Dotted with houses. Surrounded by lots of land. Open spaces. She heads that way. To the quietness felt there. Away from the thoroughfare full of traffic. Up a slight incline. Walking into and out of many different no way out streets.
Full of energy.
She is. As she plows on.
Determined.
All the while calm.
Enjoying the murmurs of nature.
She turns south, walking back towards where she came from.
Back in her neighborhood she walks briskly along the sidewalk, taking in the sounds of the houses there. Most alive with voices. Voices garbled, escaping through the front windows as she passes by.
She's content.
In solitude.
She returns. Eventually. To her home. Which is, for the moment, quiet.
Walking down the long hall, to her room, she sits on the edge of her bed. Takes off her meant for running shoes. And tosses them to the wayside. Out of the way. And leans back, her head on a misplaced pillow. Relaxing. For a moment, or two.
Before the quiet is broken by the sound of loud, laughing voices. The voices of her children when they return.
Perfect weather.
Not too cold. Nor too hot.
She's going to take a walk. Walk in a not so perfect circle. With various extensions. Here and there. Within her vicinity.
In solitude.
She calls it the cul-de-sac walk. Because any no outlet street must be entered. Stepped on. Curved around. Returning her to the main path.
She locks the front door behind her. Leaves the empty of people house to settle into its own solitude.
North of her are the hills. Dotted with houses. Surrounded by lots of land. Open spaces. She heads that way. To the quietness felt there. Away from the thoroughfare full of traffic. Up a slight incline. Walking into and out of many different no way out streets.
Full of energy.
She is. As she plows on.
Determined.
All the while calm.
Enjoying the murmurs of nature.
She turns south, walking back towards where she came from.
Back in her neighborhood she walks briskly along the sidewalk, taking in the sounds of the houses there. Most alive with voices. Voices garbled, escaping through the front windows as she passes by.
She's content.
In solitude.
She returns. Eventually. To her home. Which is, for the moment, quiet.
Walking down the long hall, to her room, she sits on the edge of her bed. Takes off her meant for running shoes. And tosses them to the wayside. Out of the way. And leans back, her head on a misplaced pillow. Relaxing. For a moment, or two.
Before the quiet is broken by the sound of loud, laughing voices. The voices of her children when they return.
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