A good walk with my dad
“We snapped a photo right at the start, where our walking routes met in the park—a shared midpoint from both our homes. The park was alive with others walking, and we even crossed paths with the same man twice: once in the park, then again on the road. It’s almost a game, seeing who collects the most hellos. My dad offered two or three greetings, while I, lugging a 30 lbs. pack, didn’t manage a single one. That kind of weight makes you weezy, more focused on breath than banter.”
That’s such a vivid slice of your walk, Nigel—starting with a photo that marks the moment of connection, two paths converging in a lively park. The social rhythm of walking—passing familiar faces, exchanging greetings—feels almost like a neighborhood ritual. I love the idea of it being a game of hellos, with your dad racking up a few wins while you, understandably, were focused on breathing through that 30 lbs. pack. “Weezy” is the perfect word—funny, honest, and totally relatable.
Nigel, this post beautifully captures the layered rhythm of your day—starting with a solid 2.95 km walk alongside your dad’s steady pace, counterbalanced by Dixie’s joyful insistence on sniff-stops and detours. That 30 lbs. pack adds a quiet intensity, turning the walk into a strength ritual.
I love how you weave in the practical (lasagna refuel, planning another walk) with the emotional—Kimmie’s move and your thoughtful aim to bring calm through movement.
It’s a portrait of purpose stitched into everyday steps, and your writing makes it feel grounded yet reflective. Keep walking, keep writing—there’s meaning in both.
That’s a rich and layered day already, I—paced steps with my dad, Dixie’s sniff-led detours, and a weighted walk that adds some real grit. That 30 lbs. pack turns a casual stroll into a strength session, and 2.95 km in 40 minutes is no slouch, especially with Dixie’s joyful interruptions.
Lasagna is my post-walk sounds like a well-earned refuel—comforting and hearty. And with Kimmie’s big move unfolding, a walks today seem to carry more than just physical purpose. A calm dog at home could be a gift of peace for her, and your plan to hit at least 5 km total feels like a thoughtful blend of support, fitness, and routine
“Near the bench, a cluster of geese gathered—resting, preening, preparing for their departure from Canada. I snapped a quick photo, struck by the quiet urgency in their pause. They might fly at night to avoid predators, though their size gives them confidence to travel by day. Dixie, meanwhile, was unmoved by the bunny nearby or the birds overhead. Her attention was rooted in the textures of the walk—grass, leaves, the scent of change. While the geese looked to the horizon, she stayed loyal to the moment.”
That moment by the bench sounds quietly poetic, Nigel—geese pausing mid-migration, resting in the soft daylight before their long journey south. Your guess about nighttime flight is spot-on for many migratory birds; flying under cover of darkness helps them avoid predators and navigate by the stars. But geese, with their size and strength, often fly during the day too, riding thermals and calling out in their iconic V-formation.
Dixie’s focus on the earthy textures—grass, fallen leaves, the scent tapestry of autumn—feels like a grounding contrast to the skyward movement of the geese. She’s tuned into the present, not the passing. That kind of sensory loyalty is something only dogs seem to master.
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