There is a bike trail less than a mile from our house, and I’ve never followed it to where it goes. On Saturday, as part of my training for the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, I had to walk 10 miles. I decided to see exactly where this bike path went.
Shortly after I started walking on the bike path, I realized I was in an industrial area. The path followed high-tension wires. Above me were great, gray, buzzing towers, and around me were school bus yards, machine shops and tree-trimming services. But between the path and these industrial yards was a border of wetlands. Birds were abundant, and I heard robins chirping and the call of red-winged blackbirds. I saw two mourning doves, but they did not make their mournful sound.
|Red Winged Blackbird|
A pair of Canada Geese were ahead of me on the path. In order to pass, I’d have to walk right between them. The ground on either side of the path was too boggy to walk on. They watched me warily as I passed, and one hissed at me as I went on my way, as if to say, “I let you pass this time.”
The path had slowly meandered its way through the industrial area, past town homes and apartment buildings. As I rounded the bend, I saw a picturesque bridge with a weeping willow. I finally heard a mourning dove, but this time the bird stayed hidden.
The day was overcast and gray, but just the right temperature. I finally reached my goal: Lake A—
As I walked around the lake, I heard something behind me. I was soon passed by four kayakers, paddling quickly in the water below me.
Feeling hungry, I had originally thought I would rest on a bench after walking around the lake to eat my granola bar. But as I approached the bench, my legs feeling tired, I realized if I sat down I wouldn’t want to get up again. Plus, I had to go to the bathroom. I ate as I went homeward bound.
While I had met few walkers and bikers on my walk to the lake, on my way home I saw one lone jogger. I took this opportunity to stop, rest my legs, and take some pictures.
|A milk weed pod, its silky contents long gone|
|A thistle, dried out from the long winter|
As I neared the end of my walk, I was tired, thirsty (I rationed the last of my water especially since there were no bathrooms on the path) but yet thrilled that I had accomplished something I didn’t think I could do. Three and a half hours after I had started out, I walked in my front door.
Don’t forget to join me tomorrow for Turning Back Time. Tomorrow’s theme: cartoons!