O, What A Beautiful Morning!

No ice, no snow – just bare, dry pavement with the sun pouring down!  So there was no excuse to avoid walking the 12 (and a bit) kilometres I’ve been promising myself since the beginning of March.  (I know it doesn’t sound like a lot, but I haven’t walked that distance since the half marathon in September.)

My first 6 kilometres were walked in the company of some of the 17 women who turned up today.  As always, I marvelled at the great company I was in.  These women have become my confidants, my cheer-leaders, my story-tellers, my advisors, my friends. 
My second loop was on my own (I’m one of the slowest members these days.)  I found myself dawdling a bit.  When engrossed in conversation, I don’t always notice the beauty around me.  On my own, I heard and saw the city birds: blue jays, cardinals, robins, woodpeckers, doves (okay, maybe they were pigeons, but they were cooing.)  I even think I saw a wood-pewee, but am not sure.  I admired the sweet yellow crocuses spilling down the hill by the Thomson family memorial.
I also remarked on the tombstones.   The Scots and English names on the older stones and monuments were ones well-known in business and industry.  But as I walked closer to Mount Pleasant, I recognized the nation-builders who came to the city later and made us the wonderful, cosmopolitan place we are.  Among the eastern Europeans, Steve Stavro’s awe-inspiring Masonic memorial always reminds me of a huge statue of charioteers I saw at a cross-roads in Bali.  The many Asian graves were being visited by large family groups as I passed that section.
When I finished the second loop, I found Helen and Rorie still engaged in conversation at the Yonge Street gates.  Helen and I headed for the subway together and I felt I’d accomplished my mission.  Maybe next time, I’ll work on a bit more speed.

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