As friends and co-workers are undoubtedly sick of hearing me describe, six months ago I moved into the city and have since discovered the joys of walking following decades of suburban living.
This neighborhood of mine -- as with many of the 120-some neighborhoods in Durham, North Carolina -- is situated and developed (part purposefully, part by happenstance) such that many of my neighbors and I are able to walk to most everyplace we need or want to go, including work, shopping, meals, and entertainment. I love it. In addition to the convenience and the ability to be a part of a vibrant city scene -- Durham may be small, but it's got more life than you might expect -- this new habit has been a boon for my health, both physical and mental, I believe.
In fact, I was just out walking this morning, having taken care of an errand at the mall and enjoying the last bit of halfway decent weather before the predicted heavy rains start. As I was climbing up the steep driveway behind the house upon my return, I noted that one of my neighbors' cars was gone (we live in the duplex, so the driveway is shared). After half a second, I realized that no, both neighbors' cars are there. Hmm, something seemed odd. Oh, well, yes, of course, and may I add an "Oh crap!", too, please? I realized that the missing car was mine and that I'd left the damn thing at the mall after having had to make a rare drive to finish chores earlier in the morning.
After completing business at the mall, I'd put my mind on autopilot and did what's become second nature: walk the half mile back home. Of course, the walk back to the mall to retrieve the car was pleasant enough: it's always good to get out more.
