ringing.

I walk a lot more nowadays, mostly because most of my favorite places are all within walking distance. it's nice to plug in some music, put on my worn out walking shoes and take a stroll. Someone asks me what I'm doing, and I say just walking. No intention, no destination, just a stroll. Like an urban version of a walkabout.

Nothing clever to say, or quote, or tweet, or update. Nothing fanciful or endearing, no insanely deep thought or the illusion of such. Just the idea of walking, breathing, stretching, clearing my mind. Like I'm at this precipice, looking over, and though I know that ground exists far below me, there still seems to be some disconnect with the reality of that fact. I feel like I am on the brink of something nuts, some crazy something that could change me, but it remains on the tip of my tongue, at the edge of that cliff as I idly kick small rocks and dust off the edge of it, hear them tumbling with smaller echoes.

I am a winter man, and it's nice to walk around in the winter, all bundled up, breath in plain view, but I am actually looking forward to spring, things in bloom and blossoming, birds chirping, even an allergy attack or two. To feel the warm sun on my pale skin, for friends to come out of hibernation, stretching their paws like small cubs as they yawn and see how wonderful it is out here in this big world.

I feel like Fievel. Somewhere out there. Some things always revert back to our childhood, maybe because our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up.

Hold on.