Walking Without Purpose

Nine minutes ago I set off for a walk. I usually read whilst walking, but I’ve recently given that up (see here). So I was pootling along thinking that I was just moving with no aim or objective. In the words, there was no purpose to this walk.

Then I saw that the recycling hasn’t been collected on this road yet and that people still read newspapers in some households. Then I jumped out of the way of two runners coming from opposite sides and got me a smile or two. Then I saw this view on the left:

River Ouse with trees reflecting from surface on a sunny day.

Then I heard the birds and the clank of the caterpillars building the flood defenses and saw the blue sky arcing above and smelled the… well, actually – I can’t smell anything, but that’s not the point.

The point is that walking is a purpose all by itself. You don’t need to have somewhere to go to enjoy the going. Just go. The journey itself can be just as lovely, if not more so, than the experience of arriving somewhere.

So there you go – I’m having a nice walk. At least, I was until I stopped and typed this whilst sitting on a shaded bench, which is now physically shaking due to those caterpillar treads clanking away just behind me as they push earth here and there. Now I’m just having an interesting sit.

Right, time for me to be off now. I have to get to work. I hope you have a lovely purposeless day, my dear.

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