My taking long walks through our neighborhood for the excercise also breaks up my work day. On the nice days, I'm so tempted to just keep on walking, but I can't. I see things. Which house on the real estate market for several months has finally sold. Residents are always adding extra bedrooms to their homes as their families get larger. Porch additions are also popular. Brick or slate walkways are put in. One neighbor with the onset of Parkinson's Disease had some handrails installed. Sad. Roofs are re-shingled. Trees are trimmed or cut down altogether.

I don't know my neighbors' names, and I really don't want to. We speak if we pass each other on the sidewalk or bike path. I give the homes and yards my own names. So, one lady who likes to feed the crows (I don't know why) is, appropriately, The Crow Lady. If tell my wife something that happened near The Crow Lady's house, my wife knows where I mean. Mistletoe grows in the tree in a different yard, so it becomes The Mistletoe Tree. You get the idea.

I meet a lot of joggers, young and old alike. Jogging once appealed to me before my knees screamed so loud in protest, I'd no choice but to listen and give it up. I think jogging is a better exercise, and maybe some day I'll rejoin their ranks, pain or no pain. But for now I just walk. Cyclists are fewer in number. As a kid, I used to ride a bicycle just about anywhere I wanted to go. It still looks like a lot of fun. Walking doesn't work up the same sweat. It's a slower pace, allowing me the tine to think, say, about how to solve a knotty plot problem in my latest novel I'm writing.

But mostly I just enjoy getting out in the fresh air and bright sunshine. That's why I like to walk.