Life without wheels

As I walked to work today, fanning myself with today's copy of The Metro as sweat rolled down my face, I realized that I didn't miss my car at all--not even the air-conditioning. I like walking--I always have--and I feel that life moves at a nicer pace when you walk everywhere instead of rushing around, swearing at traffic. I have time to enjoy the scenery, the flowers, the birds, people walking their dogs, taking their children to school.

I suppose for some people, that last sentence sounds really corny. But I like noticing the small things, and I really appreciate being able to stop and smell the roses (literally, I do stop and smell the roses and other flowers). It keeps the world in perspective, helps keeps me in balance.

One of my favorite "regulars" I cross paths with while walking to work is the little green woman. There's a small, ageless black woman (she could be thirty or sixty, I really can't tell) who walks with a cane, and I meet her on the street about three times a week. I call her the "green" woman because all winter she wore a green fleece jacket. I ran into her this morning and she was, of course, not wearing the green fleece, but I recognized her face right away. There's something so pixie-ish about her. Everytime I see her she says to me "You look very nice today." I laugh everytime and say "Thank you," to which she always replies "You're welcome." I wouldn't trade that seemingly little interaction for a BMW.