I should mention that she's not really my grandmother - but a slightly older friend who I've known for years and work with. As someone bossier than I am she has earned the right to be referred to with the respect most cultures show their elders. Also she has a good sense of humour so indulges my teasing with a great deal of patience.
From time to time we talk about measuring the distance we walk, it seems like the right thing to do in this age of precise information and goals. We have yet to do it; somehow it's not about the distance or the speed, but about the conversation, the quiet, the blesbok and dassies at the local nature reserve, the birds, wild flowers and the sunrise. We always laugh a lot, we discuss work and our families, we greet other walkers and wave at total strangers who have become so accustomed to seeing us deep in conversation that they hoot and wave as they drive past.
Once she brought a step counter and we set off with renewed energy - this time we'd know exactly how far we walk. Turned out the batteries were dead so it's still a mystery.
Last week as we were walking down the last-but-one road, greeting the schnauzer that barks his good morning to us every day, I caught a glimpse of a very big bird taking off from one of the trees overhanging the road. I touched her arm and we both stopped to watch - it was a large eagle, wingspan as big as I am tall, furry legs, one-barred tail - silently lifting into the morning air. To see this, in suburbia, seems to be reason enough to walk. Up on the main road the traffic-weary people rushing to work early miss this, they are caught up in the incredible importance of getting "there" while we are here, now, contemplating the moment.
Hello.
ReplyDeleteMy mother had an old art teacher who became my "grandmother". She was in my life for twenty years. I had art lessons with her, too. She lived to the age of 92. An amazing woman. Adopted grannies are cool.
My bird blog is new, but I thought you might like it:
http://aflockofbirds.blogspot.com/