At 4:30 I start looking forward to the evening walk,
before the second shift starts: dinner, bath time, dishes (sometimes), bedtime, and squeezed in there somewhere a time for me to take a walk or a jog.
I walk around my parents neighborhood for now, until our home is renovated and we move in.
I walk off the tension of the waiting game, this transition place of not having our own space yet.
I walk with vague visions of creative dreams/future things, wondering how and if and when; doubtful, hopeful all in one. And sometimes walking with them allows me to sort through them. Sometimes walking with them helps me release them with each step.
This walk is like a reset button.
Reset the rush with a gentle hush.
Reset what’s restless with a calm connected centeredness.
And I pass the willow tree. My favorite tree in the neighborhood.
And I take pictures of the sky.
And I come to a fountain.
A symbol of scripture
an image of psalms
a soothing sound
“For with me is the fountain of life, in your light we see light” Psalms 36:9
a tangible reminder
at the end of a day that is long.
The migrating birds fly over my head. and I take another picture.
finding a beauty that is gentle and a hope that is both kind and strong
on an evening walk.