I don’t remember anyone telling me it was beautiful (and I remember everything), but somehow I knew. It’s everywhere. Just grass and trees. Leaves and bushes and lawns. Flowers left to scatter wild on lengthy stems. (I suppose that’s where they get me, because I think I’m one of them.)
My mother had long legs. And better yet, the longest strides. I thought it was her superpower. For years I ran behind, trying to hang on to her cape. Which day was it that I caught up? No longer in the wave of that cape, the wave of her superpowers, but side by side. There was nothing we couldn’t do. Nowhere we couldn’t go. Stride for stride.
I love to walk still. Though it feels more like flying. I see people in groups in every country. Some wonder, even ask, “Why do you walk alone?” I only smile, because the truth is, I never am. Never will be. I wave and whoosh along the pash.
