What’s better on a Sunday morning than a good-paced walk outside in the fall?
The crispness of the air. A path beckoning to you along the water. Leaves starting to turn, or gently making their final descent. Wildlife scurrying or flying or splashing nearby. The sense of accomplishment from getting some exercise. The smells of the outdoors, be they rural or suburban. And best of all, the quietude.
While there’s occasionally contact with the rest of humanity in the form of other travelers, giving you the universal nod and a quiet good morning, it’s more often an exercise in introspection. Your mind quiets as the steady rhythm hypnotizes you into a trancelike self reflection. Cares from the last week have passed; cares for the week upcoming are still materializing. You’re suspended between worries and can let your mind wander.
The joy of a Sunday morning walk is in that calmness, that openness to possibility, that unstable equilibrium between the past and future.