Daily walking

Today, Echo and I climbed up to the western ridge of the property. Everytime I go up there, I want to build a house up on top of that hill. As I bushwack through the brambles, I'm searching for a way to build a road, looking at the steepness of my climb, trying to figure out how we would ever carve out a driveway that was navigable or practical. A drilled well and the septic system would probably cost as much as a house, and the cost of grading a road up that hillside would probably exceed both.

Coming down the path this morning though, for the first time I considered siting a house tucked into the hillside itself, overlooking the back of the pond. Having walked all over this up and down property of ours (except for the places where I'd need climbing gear, ropes and a belay), I realize that there is a reason people choose to live in the "hollers." Up on the ridges, I can hear the noise of the highway, three miles away. Snuggled in the notches, it's markedly quieter. Maybe a house could be built halfway up the ridge, to take advantage of the quiet and the view?

Winter is coming to an end, I can breathe it in. The woodpeckers are out making a racket in the trees, tiny bits of green are poking out of the dead leaves at my feet, getting ready to explode into renewed growth. Along the road the past two days, new baby calves are appearing, peeking out from under their mothers udders, staring curiously at the strange creatures striding by, woman and dog.

It is supposed to get warmer and rain this week, which will put a damper on our long daily walks. Tomorrow's routine will have to be short and early in any case--I have an eye exam and finally a consult with the plastic surgeon who can hopefully tell me why I am still in constant pain. If there is no reasonable explanation or quick fix, I think I will ask for a referral for physical therapy, to see if that might give me some relief.

I'm glad I have the excuse of the dog to walk each day. It's undoubtedly good for my body and spirit to be huffing and puffing up these hills in the clean mountain air, and it's a daily "chore" that gives discipline and structure to each day. If I didn't have Echo "nagging" me every morning, I might not drag myself out there to see and feel the changes each day. As it is, once I get moving, I'm glad to be outside, senses aware and alive.