#1,242 A Careful Walk.

I’ve been having a tough week trying to sleep since my attack on Thursday, partially because of pain but also because I’ve been just sitting and resting all day long. I’ve missed my daily walk around the neighborhood. You have to move around during the day to feel tired enough to sleep well at night, you know? Today was spectacular. The sky looked like a screensaver, the breeze was just right, the high was in the upper 70s and I felt well enough to go walking. I’m not tough enough to go out with Chevy and Baker yet, but a walk to church, just around the block, by my lonesome with nothing but the birds to keep me company… was perfect.

This is my street. It is very old. There are very old oak trees that shade every step of my walk.

Mississippi’s oldest art museum

On 5th Avenue around the corner from my house is the beautiful gothic Presbyterian church I went to as a teenager.

The stage for May Day at St. John’s.

Mrs. Betsy knows what’s up.

The elementary school. When I think of having little children, I imagine walking them the 100 steps from home to this gate each morning, and waiting there for them every afternoon. My mama took me and picked me up every single day and it meant the world to me.

And then I was at church, which feels like my other home.

Home.

That’s what this post was about really, wasn’t it?