Most weekends I take a walk or a run or a walk-run.
I need exercise, but I also crave the outdoors, even in winter.
For a long while, I've been meaning to snap some pictures because there are lots of pretty houses along the way,
good country houses.
This beauty is less than a mile from our home.
Even in dreary, old winter, it's gorgeous!
There's a babbling stream, and when you walk/run/run-walk past,
you can feel the coolness of it
It reminds me to listen.
It reminds me to keep quiet.
It reminds me to see.
Not look, see.
If you see closely, you'll notice an owl in that tree.
In the tree just outside this frame, there is another owl.
Signs of spring are here and there.
This brick home is always so neat and buttoned-up. At dusk, candles appear in the windows.
So classic and elegant.
I'd like to have a painting of this shot.
Middle daughter kept me company during this walk.
Often I hear Canadian geese squawking and honking and living it up.
They're a raucous bunch.
A river runs through it.
This house is like something from British literature, Thomas Hardy perhaps.
You can practically feel it's heart beating.
There are stories here.
And a sweet ass.
Not that kind of ass!
I'll call this one camouflage ass since you can hardly see him.
My favorite house of all.
Of course, there's this home, and she's a favorite, too.
Work has been too hectic this week.
I've spent too much time worrying about the long to-do list
and not nearly enough time
At some point this weekend, I vow to put on my sneakers and step outside.
I vow to relax.
I promise to have the presence of mind to be thankful.