The Old Coot takes a walk

I live in a village, an old and very small village. It was settled in the 1700’s. My house was built in 1805 and has the expected imperfections of a house of that vintage. It’s perfect for me, an old coot, also with expected imperfections.

Sidewalks border most every street – some are concrete, some are slate, but they all present a challenge to those of us who aren’t paying attention and stumble when confronted with an edge that has been pushed up by a tree root. No matter, many of us travel the walkways. 

You would be hard pressed to take a stroll and not meet a person coming the other way, or in my case, catching up and passing by as I do the Tim Conway slow step down the street.

The first time I walked through town, long before I moved there, I was impressed by how friendly everyone was. Quite different from my previous walking experiences, where passerby’s generally avoided eye contact and rarely spoke.

The first few times you pass by a person in our village, you’re met with a smile or a nod and, more often, a “Good morning.” The more you see a person, the more you interact, converse about the weather, or some other form of small talk. 

“Who was that,” a walking companion might ask. “I don’t know; we’re walking acquaintances, not acquaintance, acquaintances?” We haven’t reached the point of exchanging names, maybe we never will. 

Names aren’t important in a friendly village, where greeting and talking to strangers is commonplace; on the sidewalks, in stores and restaurants, even at the gas pumps. Small talk in a small town. Nice! 

The same thing happens in neighborhoods all over the country and on rail trails and other pathways where walkers have frequent encounters with each other.  

The walking world is like this – friendly, refreshing, and important. It never happens in the driving world, where hostile looks, horn honks and hand signals do the talking. Need a little pick-me up? Take a walk, just watch your step; those uneven sidewalk joints can get you down. Literally!  

David and Janet Allen, who I ran into on the sidewalk in three different places one brisk, sunny afternoon, suggested this article. It was so appropriate since that’s where I met them, many years ago.

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