It is unseasonably warm here (you're welcome, Southern California; I brought the weather from JoCoCruseCrazy home with me) so project Get Outside And Exercise A Little Bit Every Day has been easier than it was in December.
Yesterday, I took Seamus with me on my walk. The Western sky was beginning to turn red and gold as the sun prepared to char the other side of the world and come back to us as we walked down the driveway and out into the street.
As we neared the top of our block, a woman I rarely see was working in her front yard, planting something near the curb. She's probably in her 70s, has white hair pulled back into a bun and a heavily-lined face straight out of the Grapes of Wrath.
She dusted the dirt off her hands and stabbed her small shovel into the freshly-turned earth. She looked up at me and smiled.
"You have a nice walk about," she said.
I smiled back at her. "Thank you! I think I will."
We continued up the street and around the corner, Seamus stopping to smell every tree, bush, and fire hydrant along the way. When we got home, he walked over to his little dog bed and was asleep and snoring before I had put his leash away. I poured myself a glass of water, stood on my porch, and watched the sun set.
Nothing special or unusual happened while we were out. I didn't have any epiphanies or anything while I stood on my porch and watched black silhouettes fly across the gloaming sky. It was just a beautiful half an hour, during which I enjoyed the quiet, simple pleasures of walking my dog and hearing a kind word from a neighbor.
And that, I think, is why it's worth remembering.