Out for a Walk

A water pipe broke in the ceiling of the condo's gym, causing major damage to many of the machines, and a month long closure of the facility. An inconvenience in the middle of February when indoor treadmills are more appealing than a hike in the elements. But I have convinced myself that a windchill above zero remains acceptable to brave a walk as long as I'm wearing the right clothes.

A lesson learned years ago when I moved to Minnesota for my Pediatric Residency. Early on, one of the docs informed us there were only two reasons to be cold in winter. "Either a person is too poor to dress correctly or they are too dumb." Then he looked at us pointedly and said, "I know none of you are penniless." With that he effectively dismissed our complaints about the morning's glacial weather. More temperate conditions can be found in the poem below.


Out for a Walk


I turn north and neglect the known.

Stumble upon a neighborhood
of tear-downs and rebuilds:
Gullivers on Lilliputian lots
shoulder to shoulder, brooding
over holdouts stubborn as native grasses.

On the street thirty-somethings
jog to a pace pulsed by earbuds;
afghans and labradoodles
fresh from obedience school, trotting in sync.

I picture my dog, if I owned one,
bounding as a springer, curly as a terrier,
schnoz like a hound's,
dragging me to Instant Messages at tree bases,
sleuthing the scents of entitlement,
straining to stay while I attempt to double back

and search for the lone road out.


Marilyn Aschoff Mellor