I went for a walk today. That is in some ways not remarkable as I am 54 and have been walking for more than 50 years. In the early years of course, the distance, place, and time were somewhat restricted by parents and my own strength and ability. But eventually walking became almost a throw away “given”. I could walk where and when I wanted. Things like common sense and the law prevented walking on the 401 for example, and walking in a raging thunder storm was plain stupid, but walking was something that I took totally for granted.

But with my surgery coming in just over two weeks I am starting to appreciate the freedom and ability that I will, at least for a while (I hope!!), be ceding. I went for a walk today. I put on my boots, coat, gloves, and hat effortlessly and with no thought. I opened the door easily and stepped off the porch and along the sidewalk and then onto the road. One step after another – no struggle, no deliberation. I had my Nordic Walking poles and I was as coordinated as I ever am with the things.

The red squirrels scolded me for no seed being in the bird feeder and the chickadees and finches just glared. Step, swing, step, swing, step, swing. It was minus 12 C with no wind so I was more than comfortable in my down parka. The snow was Wenceslas Snow: laying roundabout – deep and crisp and even. Well not even because the wind of the last few days made the snow in the fields look like waves on the beach. (except for the fact the waves were not moving and were white and not blue) The white was television commercial clothing detergent white – bright, bold, sparking, glaring, jarring, blinding, florescent, glowing white – in fact one could say the snow was snow white.

And on I went; step, swing, step, swing, step , swing. Walking is amazing. It gets you from point A to point B. There is no out of pocket expense, the strain on the environment is minimal, you consume few carbon fuels, and you do not need a license. The view is breathtaking. There are no General Motors designed blind spots; there is no need for a window seat and the worry if you got the one on the better side. When you have to stop, you just stop. ABS brakes are not needed and neither is traction control ( as a bit of a sidebar – traction control is sometimes needed a little and I swear by my Yaktrax, thank you Santa, and what the hell – it is my blog so I will demean myself to a commercial link - http://www.yaktrax.com/).

I only walked a few kilometers but enough to climb a hill and look at The River that actually froze up on Friday night. The River looked like she was at peace. No boat could of course venture on it, and only the most foolhardy pedestrian or snowmobiler would try the ice. I have spent many, many hours on the water as a kayaker, snowshoer, or skier, but somehow letting her rest for at least a few weeks a year seems so right and proper.

Walking up the hill was easy and so was the trip down. I walked closer to the river’s edge, saw some fresh work by the river beavers, and looked at a hole they were trying to maintain. It was effortless and painless to breath. One of my spiritual advisors advised me to really concentrate on breathing, doing stretches, and getting my lungs in shape for the wounded sternum that is yet to come. I sort of half enthusiastically did that, the lazy, denying part of my brain telling me that it is not such a big deal.

But it is a big deal. Going for a walk is a big deal. Smelling and seeing and sensing winter is a big deal. In fact it is a valuable commodity and gift. If nothing else, as I am going through this journey, I am getting the eyes to see what is of value.