I saunter along Hood River’s waterfront, raising my hand to greet other codgers and dog walkers. Silently, we share the companionship of fortitude. They, like me, are determined to exercise. It’s a commitment undeterred by dreary weather as Oregon transitions from autumn to winter.
I do dreary quite well. My recovery from cancer related pneumonia motivates me to stretch, walk, and breathe deep. I find contentment with doing the same thing over and over.
The photos below look west: same view, different days.
Click on any photo to enlarge and view the gallery format.
The natural world also pursues repetitive instincts. Ordinary seasonal change blossoms with the beauty of the landscape’s variety. This is true even when it leans into the dormancy of winter. Subtlety and nuance occur when nature’s patient curator, Time, arranges the exhibition.
Usually, I walk alone. On these solitary perambulations, I’ll often listen to music while observing nature’s art gallery. This museum of natural history does not belong to me or any of the other walkers. Yet, it is available always to everyone.
Here is another collection looking north.
These walks along the same path week after week help fulfill physical needs. The fresh air and exercise stimulate my body and mind. I pay little attention to my stepping other than the feel of its rhythm. It’s a meditative routine; always the same and always different.
This last assembly of photos looks east toward the Hood River-White Salmon Bridge.