The sun came out after the rain, as it is wont to do, and I decided to take advantage of it before the clouds returned to hide it. I did not go to the Nature Sanctuary since I figured it would be more muddy than I would like. Instead, I took to a trail I have not walked in several years.
I wasn’t much of a “neighborhood kid” when I was younger; part of that was due to attending St. Hubert’s and part of that was due to not being allowed to play with the neighborhood kids. It wasn’t so much that they were bad or anything, my mom just didn’t know them and was a bit overprotective. She didn’t like it if I strayed too far from our street, but when I got a little older, I could go a little farther.
I remember when the end of my street did not go into Barclay Pointe; there used to be a cornfield there and Courtnay Suvada and I would sometimes venture into it. When the cornfield became property, and they were yet to begin construction, there were the “dunes”. It’s probably no surprise I was a tomboy, so some of the neighborhood boys I knew through school chums and I would race up and down the dunes on our bikes.
I used to go on bike rides with the Suvadas when the new bike path was made; that was how I discovered the old woods. Once upon a time, the property was far more wooded than it is today. I used to want to go with the neighborhood kids I’d started to befriend and play there…but I was never allowed. Later, when I was in high school, and much better friends with Amanda Greco, she described the woods to me and told me tale of all the fun and games that used to occur there.
I wish I had known them.
When I was in sixth grade, I started to venture into the woods alone. It wasn’t like I couldn’t still see houses or anything. I remember finding a brook, and I used to collect swords, and bows, and staves. At least, that’s what they were to me. I remember lavender and birdsong and shortcuts to the jogging path.
‘Twas the jogging path that brought me out of my chamber today. I thought since I could not go to the Nature Sanctuary, I might care for jaunt around the old woods and make a few circuits ’round the old jogging trail.
I donned a pair of old cargo pants that somehow survived my closet and my blue Cornell T-shirt that was gifted to me by Ilyse Gerson back when we were friends. What I really wanted to do was jog the trail, but I did not have the proper attire, nor did I think myself fit enough to do so.
Yet. One step at a time, people.
When I stepped on to the bike trail, my senses savored the sweet smells of summer…
Okay, not really. I just thought that sentence sounded cool. Cliché as all get out, but cool. (What do you want from me? I have writer’s block and need to get my alliteration out somehow.)
But seriously, dude. The smell…my God, the smell! (Can you be seduced by smell?) I wished I were an animal of some kind so I could fully appreciate the smells. I probably would have gone nuts. I was seriously tempted to try and find some of the old paths I used to walk, but thought better of it when I saw the pools of rainwater. There was this fantastic little breeze singing in the trees and traces of sunlight dappling the trail.
I followed the bend across a little bridge and left the trail behind me. As I walked up the hill into Amanda Greco’s dad’s old neighborhood, I looked back fondly down the way. “I seem to remember this hill being much bigger when I was kid.” ( “To an eight-year-old, I’m huge.”) I used to coast down the hill and around the bend at break-neck speed…well, break-neck for an eleven-year-old on a one-speed bike. (I was eleven in sixth grade?! Let’s see…I turned thirteen in eighth grade, so that means…)
I found the jogging path abandoned…which wasn’t all that surprising given the storms of the day. I wondered vaguely if the old course got much use now that everybody and their brother goes to the gym these days.
By the time I began my first circuit, I was on One Song Glory on my RENT playlist.
It was nice to be out and about. I alternated between singing along with Kaylee, and just appreciating the bit of nature I had access to. I wish I could say I did not think of Japan while I was walking…but that would be a lie. I thought about hiking, and Akameguchi, and Nijozan. Not for the first time did I long for the mountain trails…
Half of the course borders the woods — it’s how I found the jogging path in the first place all those years ago. On my second round, I met a little frog. I paused to say hello and hoped he (or maybe ’twas a she) would not hop away as I passed. He did not. I met a robin with white speckles on its head on the other side of the course, and we passed each other amiably in that it did not flutter away. I scanned for the little frog when I passed again, but did not see him. When I got a little further down the path, however, I met a different frog; greener and bigger than the first. I did not say hello the first time I passed, for I thought him to be gone on the second, but the li’l guy proved me wrong so this time I said hello. ( “Hello Chien-Po…”)
On my last circuit, I heard a barking. I saw that one of the residents had let out their yellow lab. “Trapper?” Then I thought better of it; for one thing, I was still at least two streets away from Amanda Greco’s dad’s place (if he still lived there), and for another, Trapper was old when I knew him in college…he might not even be around anymore. Not-Trapper barked at me when I passed him, but then seemingly got distracted by something else. I took my leave thereafter, for the hour was fast approaching and I hoped to make it home in time for afternoon coffee.
I decided that I would like to make a habit out of using the old jogging course, whether it be walking or running. ‘Tis close enough to my house, and if today was any indication of it’s use (or lack thereof by other people), then ’tis the perfect place for me.
I’m glad I went home when I did, for right when my mom came home, the clouds returned to steal the sun from our view.