Evening walks are hit or miss. I rarely miss an evening walk because it is a desperately needed opportunity to be alone. Usually at this time, around 7 p.m., the day has been flattened by heat. Even the shadiest spots are still and suffocating, and the bugs are still out getting their last licks in.
Last night the air seemed to cool quickly where I walked. I wasn’t expecting it at all–I planned on a hot sweaty walk where getting back to the car would be a welcome respite. It was certainly still hot, but a breeze mixed up all the hot air so much that my bare shoulders remained cool. There’s something about extreme temperatures that makes you aware of your body in a different way. The breeze also is great at keeping the bugs at bay.
Being released from the tyranny of the heat and insects allowed me to enjoy the walk in a more open way. I was able to appreciate the meadow flowers along the trail that I usually march past: black-eyed Susan, Queen Anne’s lace, and spotted knapweed. The sky began to turn that beautiful evening cornflower blue and dusky lavender, the clouds hovered slowly, and the waxing half moon began to shine brightly. I felt a rush of freedom that only a walk seems to give–what is it? Freedom from the borders of consciousness, I guessed.