Today I thought about how I had made a mistake. The possibility of walking everyday, of sparking inspiration by putting feet gentle and softly to the ground, feels distant at best. But we walk anyways, as the sun sinks low and children trail in ragged circles around and behind. Everything turns gilded, light catching and reflecting down power lines in magical webs. The kids walk and skip, they skin their knees and insist on being carried, climbing in and out of double-jogging stroller to alternately sit on shoulders and ride the scooter with pink flashing wheels. I feel uninspired, and the voices of the muses stay stubbornly silent. So I talk to Decorey about his shoes, and his art. We stroll, and we wrangle into bed, and the sun gets lost somewhere deep beneath the horizon before we climb weary beneath the sheets.
This is my second post in my series for the month of October: 31 miles in 31 days, it's not to late to join the challenge to write everyday for a month. And join me all this month as I walk 31 miles, well hopefully.
