Today's Walk

Hello, Monday.

The first lap at the cemetery is reserved for walking with my husband. He walks a faster pace than I do. Today, I quickened mine to match his but halfway around my hips began to say “no.” I slowed a bit and his pace intuitively met mine. 

"We didn't get the memo that it was dog walking day," he said to the first dog walker we met. She's clad in red joggers with white side stripes. A long brown coat, unbuttoned, moves as she strides but she's wearing a plain beige interesting-shaped hat. A tam, perhaps? Dark hair, dark eyes, she flashes a brief smile that says “I see you, but I'm busy.“ She listens, always, to something out loud in Spanish. Her dog, a miniature German Shepherd-type, dutifully walks beside her until he finds a good smell, which is often. I see her occasionally when I walk.

Dog walker #2 is purple parka’d but looks chilly. Clementine, her beagle, is ever inquisitive and quite friendly. She’s usually good for twenty minutes max but I guess that today’s cold breeze cut it short. She is at the cemetery frequently. 

Dog walkers #3 and #4 make endless inner loops. I passed them twice and ended my walk before they did. The leash holder wore a pea-soup green down vest with burgundy leggings and a colorful floral hat, while her lagging companion's long light brown hair - no hat! - whipped in the breeze. Her teal leggings grabbed my attention merely because I love the color teal. My first thought may have been that those bodies didn't belong in tight leggings, especially Ms. Teal's, and I was immediately embarrassed that I passed judgment. And also surprise that I had. They were warm and were enjoying a nice walk. They talked loudly and nonstop even when I passed near them. I have not seen them before. The dog was possibly a golden retriever or a similar breed.

Dog walker #2 left as dog walker #5 appeared. I'm pretty certain that she is older than I am. She has two dogs (mixed breed mutts, best guess) on separate leashes. I have talked with her before about the weather and how we were both grateful for a beautiful day in winter. I last saw her just before Christmas. She meanders from one side of the road to the other as her dogs dictate her walk. I can barely see her face as I approach, the white fur-trimmed hood of her jacket is drawn tight.  I tell her as I walk by, with the appropriate space of social distance, that it is good to see her (and her bright pink nose). She returns, "You, too. Cold today."