Woodland Mornings

Woodland is a treasure this time of the year. I happen to be one of those most fortunate Woodlanders that live and work in our fair town. When the mornings are cool, and every house and yard seems to exhale a maze of scents as I pass by, the walk to work is a gift. I can make eye contact with bike riders and other walkers and exchange a good morning to ya. On the residential avenues I favor, I often meet front yard gardeners or can see the fruits of their work up close. Older houses breathe out in a different way, maybe it is the basements, but some exhale an older air with a mingle of smells so heavy they seem to have a color. Each day of walking to and from work, about 2.5 miles one way gives me a little sense, to be honest, of smugness. My car stays home in the garage, I get the exercise that it takes too much time to go to the gym for, and, if I leave the podcast at home, even almost an hour of peace.

The reality is, my Ipod usually has the most recent Democracy Now with Amy Goodman interviewing journalists such as Jeremy Scahill. It is always information provided in a depth that is foreign to cable news. So these mornings are a study in contrast with the beauty of the people and place that is Woodland and the precariousness of life in so many other places in this world.