We don't have a car and sometimes getting places is annoying trying to catch a bus or keep children moving when they are tired, but really it is a blessing. Those times walking are times of family. Time to see how things around us are changing and to remember other walks down these same paths. While not rural paths, these streets are our lands, marked with the stories and lives of our family. There is the tree where the birds sit, the old man who smokes on his front porch, the place where the flowers first bloom.
It is walking when my older daughter opens up, even on days when she is most closed. It is walking where my little one picks up her rocks and sticks. It is walking that gently gets Joel moving on days when he hurts. It is my time to read and think. I practice my Cree as I walk and watch the sky change colours.
Walking keeps us aware of the weather. It keeps us aware of what we buy - given that we have to haul it all home by hand. It keeps us aware of our community and who is coming and going. Walking is part of the ceremony of life. A part of the rhythm, hearing the crunching leaves and squeaky snow. It slows us down and limits where we can go but that is usually a good thing. Turtle never goes anywhere fast either.
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