on connecting...

This weather.  Wow.  Today Claire, Wolfie and I went for a nice long walk at the Black Mt. Recreation Park, a place I've often looked over and haven't spent much time exploring.  It's actually a pretty great place with a ton of trails meandering through fields and forest, a rambling creek, a section of paved greenway,  and a disc golf course.  There's also an off-limits-to-the-public ropes course affiliated with Montreat College that is fun to look at and perhaps one day we'll find a way to get in on it.

Today we walked, we watched people play disc golf, we ran into a friend, (as we so often do in our little town) we sat in the sun, and we waved at our shadows.  A few minutes into our walk I passed a woman wearing an Ocracoke sweatshirt and I remarked that that was one of my favorite places.  She then turned around to join us, as she was headed back up the greenway path anyway, and we talked for about 20 minutes about her time living there, what we thought about nesting sea turtles and allowing driving on the beach, her time in Ireland, and a bit of this and that.  I didn't mind the slower pace that I needed to take on to keep her as my walking partner, nor the several decades that stood between us.  In fact, I found both of those quite delightful.  I've noticed lately that I seem to be seeking out opportunities to connect with others more often than I used to.  Maybe because I spend so much time one on one with a baby, probably for several reasons.  I am reminding myself of my own mother, and remembering how I used to find it so embarrassing when she would strike up conversations with complete strangers.  I thought it was pretty silly.  Silly me.

I often think about how we are all filled with lifetimes of stories, experiences, experience..... and about how very much we could learn from one another, about one another, about ourselves, if we took the time to connect with each other.  Of course, I like my personal space and privacy as well, so it's tricky.  I suppose we reach out when we are moved to do so,  and likewise turn inward when we are moved to.

Her name was Annie.  We parted ways once I realized she (and we as well) was headed back towards town, and I hadn't even gotten into the woods yet.  I hope to run into her again.