Rhapsodies, spiritual musings, and practical advice on Island Living


Monday, November 22, 2010

on my walk...

I had only 24 hours on the island this past week. I said to myself, "Since your time here is so brief, you must go for your walk from downtown to three corners and back; you will regret it if you don't go." But another part of me -- too tired from my journey -- complained and stalled and made up a list of excuses to not go out into the cold, damp world outside. 

In this post, where I borrow the style from Marie-Louise Gay's "On my island," I poke fun at myself revealing the gap between: (1) my predictions about my walk that are so grumpy they could rival those pessimistic grumblings of  Winnie-the-Pooh's friend, Eeyore: and (2) my cold-on-face-tingling, fresh-air-breathing, spirit-uplifting reality while on my walk. There is no question --after the fact -- that a walk was exactly what I needed, but I had to walk the walk before I knew which voice was true.

My inner gloom-forecasting "voice" is shown below in italicized text and my body's "voice" (my feet on the pavement, hands on camera, and eyes looking around) is represented by a series of photographs. I have  made no effort to reconcile the contrast between my two "voices." I only have recorded them as faithfully as I can and let them have their way with each other. I hope you will enjoy coming along on my walk...


Do I really want to go on a walk this cold, drizzly, mid-November morning?
(These were my reasons to NOT walk...)




On my walk, I will be depressed by the absence of summer greens. 






















The whole landscape will be grey and colourless. 















The side of the road will be slippery from the overnight rainstorm...

...and all that will remain will be a mix of mud and dead grass.

I will see only rotten, ugly leaves on the roadside.










And the withered branches will look dead...



...and be 
depressingly 
bare.









I will be bored by the "same old, same old..."




... and there will be nothing -- absolutely nothing -- to photograph.
So do  I really want to go on my walk?














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Photo credit: Photos by Jessica at Oceanwood.
Book credit: On my island, written by Marie-Louise Gay, wrote this ironic tale of a child who laments that "nothing, absolutely nothing ever happens on my island" all the while fascinating and fabulous adventures are happening -- unseen by the sulking child -- behind her back.
Oceanwood Chronicles, copyright 2010 - Jessica at Oceanwood. Creative commons attribution, non-commercial sharing only (translation: feel free to quote me in context or use this entry but please always credit me for my work, thanks.) http://oceanwood.blogspot.com/

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