It was supposed to be only an errand

I had my new digital camera in tow. The plan was to use visuals as well as text to profile a routine walk––an 'errand' walk, let's call it, rather than a walk for its own sake. Starting from my house in St. George

and on the way, passing through New Brighton (Unitarian Church book sale, Barnett Shepard's house, and the entrance to Snug Harbor Cultural Center) and West Brighton (Clove Lakes Park).




I had told myself I'd get some representative shots and then, and soon as I finished my errand, I'd head straight back home to St. George. But of course I didn't stick to the script. As soon as I exited the variety store that had been my destination, I turned right instead of left and just kept going till I hit Clove Lakes Park.

There I retraced a north-south route I'd discovered earlier this past summer, the sort of place that can mystify and intrigue you only once, after which it becomes beautiful but never again quite so magical.

Along this route on that earlier summer walk, I had discovered two stretches of fairly deep woods, often quite hilly, the southern stetch larger and wilder. Each was near at least one of the park's three lakes, Brooks, Clove, and Martling; each plateaued in a several-acre expanse of lawn. The first time I experienced it, this swift and sudden change––from being under a tree canopy, then emerging into a clearing and a ceiling of open sky––it was startling, even shocking.

This more recent Sunday afternoon was sunny and a bit cool. Clove Lakes Park seemed almost empty, as it often seems (and often is) during the week. Except for small assemblies at sports facilities, there was only the occasional dog walker or jogger in view. During my tramp through the woods, I encountered only one other solitary walker.

Soon after, my camera battery died. By then I was already well into my return trek, which took me, via a different route, through the smaller, more formal and more manicured Silver Lake Park, also remarkably empty on such a beautiful day.

Distance of this ostensible 'errand' walk: 7 miles, roundrip.

Comments

[Steve Patterson]

I had forgotten how lovely your home is, thanks for sharing your "errand."