My morning walk is a meditation and a way to stay open to new things. Part of the walk is along a rather dull stretch of road, and I’ve noticed that I have taken to trying very hard to make this piece of landscape more than it is.
Morning walk (similar to Morning Pages for those of you who follow Julia Cameron’s Artists Way) is early, so it didn’t occur to me to simply choose another path until the following incident. I was slogging along on a stretch of hot sidewalk, with a goal of making it to the traffic light way off in the distance. It’s a feeder route, so I’m walking past trailer parks and speeding cars. I’m not meditative. I’m cranky. Ahead of me, I see an unknown plant and a seed pod underneath it.
The seed pod is unusual. Not that it is green, we have plenty of those on the way to turning another color–this cold be a dropped citrus. But that the plant that produced it is small, too small to produce a seed pod this size.
As I get closer, the seed pod seems to move, and it takes a minute for my brain to figure out that I’m seeing evaporation on the surface. I look for the drip irrigation tube, but don’t see it.
As my brain continues to puzzle over this, I hear scratching footsteps approaching. I look up just in time to see a yellow labrador retriever fly by me, and pick up his ball, covering it fresh with saliva, for his owner to throw again.
Sometimes a round green thing is just a round green ball.
–Quinn McDonald is a writer who does morning walking meditation. She is also a certified creativity coach. See her work at QuinnCreative.com