Watertown, Naturally

LL Trail Edit

Luce Line Trail in Watertown, MN

I felt a little foggy this morning, so I did the best thing I know, strapped on the sneakers and headed out the door. The wind was biting for the first mile and all I could think about was turning the corner and going in a different direction. Eventually I veered left and began the ascent up what we locals call “Lovers Lane”.

On top of the hill the wind died down and the sun came out. I passed a small creek (read “crick”…this is the country) and a large pond. The singing of the frogs was so loud that it literally forced me to focus on the surroundings. I smiled as I thought about my mom sharing a memory from her childhood. My grandma told her she couldn’t take off her long-johns until the frogs croaked three nights in a row.

Oh grandma. I smiled broader.

I took a deep breath of the fresh, clean air and exhaled slowly. A rooster crowed to my right from a small farm. On my left a new housing development was being built in the distance. The juxtaposition of the two worlds struck me as rather odd. But I suppose that’s how it happens; the creep of population comes on slow, reaching further and further from the metro areas.

Turning from one dirt road onto another, I was brought back to the here and now. The world is fighting an invisible foe, one with no regard for human life. Being outside in the fresh air let me forget, if only for a moment, that I would soon be back to the reality of a ‘stay-at-home’ order.

But for now, for these few miles, I had tranquility and peace. I was determined to enjoy it.

Nearing downtown Watertown, I followed Hope Avenue and hopped on the Luce Line Trail. Hope…the name of the street reassured me as I crossed the bridge and passed through Pocket Park. I saw some robins springing around in the newly-green grass and a couple of squirrels chasing each other up and down a tree. The Crow River swelled over her banks; a tree branch floating carelessly along in the swift current.

My husband says you notice nature more when you’re happy. I guess that’s true.

A woman ran by and caught my attention. Her large dog was tied to the double stroller that she maneuvered with one hand—yes, one hand. A young daughter held the other hand. A second daughter ran alongside them.

I’ve seen many women running with strollers. This one was my hero.

I made the turn down my street, our house sitting at the end of the cul-de-sac. Maybe it was the nature talking, but it didn’t feel like a fortress of imprisonment. What I saw was a yard coming to life. There were flower beds and planters beckoning with possibilities. It was a home that I share with The King of the World and our dog, Walter. I took one more deep breath of the brisk morning air; my previously foggy and blocked brain was clear. I pushed open the door to excited puppy kisses.

Call me a cockeyed optimist, but I know that this, too, will pass. Stay safe.


One response to this post.

  1. […] To finish reading, go to Fresh Air Musings […]


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