March 30, 2019
Yesterday we took another ‘solo’ walk, parking at the Mystic Library and 

setting off each on our own favored route and at our own ideal pace. I 

walked straight down the steep hill into Mystic and then out along the 

seemingly always silent Mystic River in its grayness, with a gray sky above spotted with places of sunlight. I walked briskly and happily, feeling 

fortunate to be able to move my arms and legs freely and at will, somethingat least two of our friends are unable to do.  I spoke aloud as I 

walked, going over some thoughts I often reflect on, doing what I 

suppose I might call a ‘walking meditation’. There is indeed something about walking in ‘thegreat outdoors’ – and it is, indeed, great – that 

makes life sparkle more than it usually does. I felt free and peaceful asI strode along on the roads and sidewalks. I especially enjoyed carefullynoticing some of the scenes I passed, the kind of noticing I rarely do, 

unfortunately. I stopped for a moment to take a good look at this stone wall, one of many of these beauties we see in Mystic, and in fact in all of New England. These stones have been silently sitting here for countless years. Wars and assorted sorrows have scourged the earth again 

and again, and these stones have stayed patiently where they are 

through it all.