Walking is prayer. Each day I try to walk for at least an hour and sometimes two hours. During that time I pray, meditate, listen to music or an audiobook. It is MY time to unload my stress, reload my gratitude, and fill my senses with God’s creations. I don’t use it to make plans for my day or my life. It is time for me to be present in each moment, not jump into the future or review the past.

Each walk starts with a prayer. I thank almighty God for giving me a healthy body and the ability to walk. I continue my thanks giving for all the blessings in my life, friends, family, and the beauty of the day. Once in a while one of the characters from a story I’m writing comes to take up space in my head as I amble along. I firmly let them know I’ll get back to them later after I get home but I try to remember what they tell me so I can write it down when I’m back at my desk.

I appreciate the gift of biped perambulating because five years ago I was couch-bound for over three months. I broke both of my ankles (one at a time prolonging recovery time – that’s another story about life lessons) and couldn’t do the simplest thing – walk. As a one-year-old, I learned, as most of us do, to move my body balancing from foot to foot, and took for granted that ability to move myself would always be with me. I was shocked when I couldn’t get up and walk. I used a scooter to get from place to place in the house, but I couldn’t WALK. I began noticing all the people who had walking limitations, using crutches, scooter, cane, staff, and walker. I developed great empathy for them. Until then I really didn’t notice them. I recognize now how hard it is to get oneself up, showered and dressed, and ready for the day when you cannot walk; what willpower it takes to get to the grocery store, to a job or do anything around the house.

I became very jealous of people who walked by or even worse jogged or ran by. Ken would take me for car rides to get me out of the house and I found rage bubble as I saw people walking. It struck me that unless I took myself in hand and made rehab my primary daily activity, I could possibly end up using a walker, cane or God forbid even a wheelchair for the rest of my life. Walking became an obsession.

I walked or jogged as a casual activity for decades never realizing what a gift it was. It was ho-hum, I guess I’ll go for a walk or go running at the track. I have strong legs and can walk miles without aches or pains. Not because of anything I’ve ever done, but because I am blessed with a sturdy body – hearty peasant stock.  I sometimes walked over seven miles around my town, to become familiar with neighborhoods. I hiked many trails around Tucson. Several times I hiked the nine-mile trail loop to the top of Wasson Peak in Saguaro National Park of the Tucson Mountains. I got winded by the 2,000-foot elevation change, but my legs never gave out. I’ve hiked various trails in the Catalina Mountains and the sandy trail at the bottom of Honey Bee Canyon.  I don’t know at what point my legs would get tired. I always feel I can do more, go farther. I haven’t explored my limits.

We built our house at the edge of Vistoso Golf Course so we would have open space behind us. The golf course owner went bankrupt and had to sell the property. Because of the town plan and zoning, it was hard to find a buyer for a defunct golf course. Without significant legal maneuvers, it couldn’t become housing. Finally, the Town of Oro Valley along with the Nature Conservancy group purchased the property as a Nature Preserve. Bonus! Not only would it remain open space but there would not be those annoying golf carts and maintenance vehicles roaming around our backyard.

The Preserve is 202 acres with 6.2 miles of concrete trails (former cart paths) and many more miles of dirt trails crisscrossing open spaces. If you stay on the concrete path it takes about two hours to walk the loop. The wonderful thing is you don’t have to stay on the path. You can walk across meadows and through tree-lined washes making your own track. Foot traffic through these open areas has created alternate routes over the past couple of years.

I am now so familiar with the Preserve that I’ve named each hill along the trail. For example, there is Castle Hill in the foothills of the Tortolita Mountains with a view of a castle-like rock formation. From this elevated part of the trail, you can see the Tucson Mountains to the west and the Catalina’s to the east.  Playground Hill passes the park in the CenterPoint neighborhood; Shady Wash Hill starts from a big shaded wash and climbs to a wide open field; Number Seven Hill where the seventh tee of the old golf course was and the marker remains. Meadow Hill climbs up to a big open meadow where I have seen coyotes romping through tall grass. There are among others, Ghost Saguaro Hill, and Petroglyph Hill. And on and on. I haven’t counted how many hills are on the trail, but I look forward to each one as I come to them on my rambles through the Preserve.    

I walk alone for at least an hour each day. My friend Roxanne walks with me for two hours on Saturday morning. I encounter many of the same people who live in the area and walk the trails daily as I do. We nod, smile, and say good morning, make short comments and observations on the day or the wildlife we see. There are couples, and dog walkers, but most are solitary as am I. A few ride bikes through the Preserve. I feel sorry for them because they whiz by all the beauty and natural wonders so quickly and miss observing the animals entirely. We dress in shorts or sweats depending on the season and t-shirts, and possibly a jacket in the winter, very casual since it is our neighborhood, home is nearby.

There is one group I come across almost every week. I call them the Imports. They are definitely not from the neighborhood. They wear backpacks and look like serious hikers. They have a leader who talks and points as they walk. I think they are part of an ecology group. They start in a close group, but I noticed, when I come across them later on the trail, that they become separated with stragglers sometimes fifty yards behind the leaders.

Wildlife is abundant. In other posts, I’ve listed all the animals that live in my neighborhood. Or rather I recognize that I live in their neighborhood. I’m grateful they haven’t gotten pissed off and left but instead stayed to share the area with us human invaders. Sometimes a deer or javelina will go by our backyard fence and look in at us sitting on the patio. It is as if they are taking a stroll through their environment, and we are the ones behind the bars of our fence like critters in a zoo. Although they are wild things they do not threaten or challenge us. I’ve had coyotes trot alongside me as I walk. They get within about twenty feet and match my pace. They are wary and keep an eye on my movements. I get no sense of threat from them. 

Bobcats don’t come as close when I’m walking but they have slept on our front patio, even on the chaise in our backyard.  Once while holding our two-year-old grandson’s hand I walked to the end of our cul de sac and nearly stumbled over a sleeping bobcat who blended so well with the vegetation that I didn’t see him until he stood up, stretched, and moved away into the wash. A bobcat slept unnoticed in our neighbor’s backyard wooden play structure and only left when the kids in the pool made a big racket and woke him. I know enough to keep a good distance from wild things especially if they have their babies with them. They can be dangerous if they feel threat.

Mostly I see a plethora of bird beings, in all varieties.  Bunnies and lizards/geckos of all shapes and sizes zip here and there in the underbrush or across the trails. Summertime means many of the animals retreat to the mountains and our valley is left with those that don’t travel. When cooler weather begins, the animals show up just as human snowbirds do. But honestly, the animals are more welcome because they don’t clog the streets and byways or crowd the restaurants and library. They add variety to my daily walks. They listen to my prayers.