Yes, Indeed, I'm Walkin'

It was during the summer of 1984 when I first realized that I could just . . . walk somewhere, if I wanted to get there.  I was living in a bit of a hovel on S. 13th Street, and one morning, I woke with a hankering to visit my mom, who lived across town, maybe 5 or 6 miles away.  Because I had the time, and the legs, and the curiosity about what it would be like, I walked to her house that day.

It was wonderful.

A succession of dogs--coupled with a few decades of summers off--have made sure that I would keep up that tradition.

Lucky, lucky me.

Yesterday, I relished two terrific--and very different--walks.  The first, at Holmes Lake, was a quiet and welcomed return to snowless paths and warmer temperatures, two conditions that Finn's Portuguese paws required.

We headed up the dam, Finn sniffing the grasses for skittering voles, and me scanning the leeward side, hoping to see a fox or a coyote.  Halfway across the dam, my monkey mind now silent, I started to find my groove. That's when I noticed a lone ice fisherman inching across the lake, pulling a sled behind him.  And I began to think about the ice and walking on the water and things both biblical and scientific.

My thoughts were interrupted by the mournful call of a solitary goose, the sight of seed-speckled scat, the smell of cold, clean air.  They were exactly what the doctor had ordered, especially following a student-and-stimulus-heavy Friday at school.  I was hungry for something that did not involve humans and I found it, in spades.

By 2:30, though--revived and relaxed--I was ready for my peeps.  And I found them, in droves, just north of the Student Union.  Not a goose or a vole in sight, my afternoon walk was filled with passionate people who spanned a beautiful spectrum of age and culture and identity.  We walked and laughed and chanted together, eventually making our way to the steps of our stunningly beautiful capitol building, where, we hoped, equality really is before the law.

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I have lots of friends who run and every one of them tells me how awesome it is, pumping legs and blood and air in equal measure.    I hate to think of them as liars, and I suppose it is possible (though not probable) that something pleasurable comes from all that work.  But, every time I put feet to ground and saunter along a path, I am certain that walking is the ultimate way to see and experience this wonderful world, my heart rate low and easy, my senses happily working overtime.

Twelve Reasons Why

I admit it. I was more than a bit befuddled, come Dec. 31.  I mean, it's not like 2017 was the year I got cancer or the year my mom died.  So how on earth could the end of 2017 feel worse to me than the end of the previous year?  Why did the end of it feel so . . . exhausting? 

. . . yeah, you don't need to be a genius to figure it out.

So let's go a different route instead.  Below are 12 photos that represent 12 awesome moments for me in 2017.  Because, I need to focus on the wins.  They are the things that'll feed me for years to come.

JANUARY: THE WOMEN'S MARCH

Millions of women from hundreds of countries speaking in dozens of tongues stood up and said "Enough"  Thank God my friend Mary Anne nudged me to join her that afternoon.  It was, it turned out, a crossroads moment for me.  I would go on to attend 4 or 5 other marches this year, each time, my voice growing stronger.



FEBRUARY: A FROZEN LANDSCAPE

Let's hear it for Cuddleduds and goose feathers!  One frigid Saturday in February--thanks to Doug Wells and the Nebraska Master Naturalists--I was at Platte River State Park, getting schooled in its cultural, economic and natural history.  We meandered to the far corners of that land and, while the cold was intense, the experience was amazingly warming.

MARCH: PILEATED WOODPECKER
My March moment was a hard one to choose, thanks to a great visit with family in Indiana.  The journalist in me is disappointed I didn't count my sighting of a Gutenberg Bible as the highlight--so many people liberated by that danged device of his!  But the bird nerd in me had waited 55 years to see my first Pileated Woodpecker, so perhaps I could be granted some kind of forgiveness for losing my cool on a dirt road just outside of Bloomington, while a  nearby tree was getting the bejeezus pounded out of it!

APRIL: NEIGHBORHOOD SHENANIGANS
How lucky am I to live on this short street in the middle of Lincoln?  Filled with kind and funny people who keep me on my toes, this is a good place to live.  And the fact that Randy owns a garbage-collection business and keeps his eyes out for jewels to plant in everyone's yards?  Yeah, pinch me!

MAY:  STAR POWER
Granted, I literally housed Allison Holt for nine months in '95, but I'd like to think that I'm an unbiased observer of someone who clearly possesses grit and creativity, in equal measure.  So, when she won Best Director and a butt load of other awards for her film "Up River" (click the link!), I was delighted that she'd gotten a nod from other, less-chromosomally connected individuals than I.

JUNE:  HAWAII SIX-O!
Perennial cheapskates, Mark and I came out of 2016 with a willingness to live large, if only once!  So we invited our kids, along with Kate and Zach, to join us for 7 magical days in Kauai, where we said 'no' to almost nothing.  It was an unbelievable experience.

JULY:  BUGMASTER NATION
Two full days on East Campus, learning about bugs both beloved (think bees) and despised (think ticks and bedbugs) was just what I needed this July!  And my time with the bees was especially impactful, given that I went home and built the first thing I'd made since I put together a CD rack in 1992.  Bee Hotel chez Holt is open for business!

AUGUST: SWOONING AT THE SKY!
This was a top-ten day for me, despite the fact that, in my absence, I was on tenuous grounds with my employer!  My childhood friend Julie came from Boston to join the gang in Cortland, just to stare at the place in the sky where the sun was supposed to be.  That millions of people all across the continent stared up into the sky, gape-jawed, renewed my faith in our species.

SEPTEMBER:  PAINTED LADIES!
Nature is a master teacher.  I know this because, before this fall, I couldn't have cared less about Painted Lady butterflies.  Bo-ring!  But, when they showed up by the hundreds in our humble garden?  And when Denver radar actually picked them up on its satellites?  Well, yeah.  I'm not stupid!  I know a beautiful thing when I see it!  How many days in September did I rush home from school and head directly to our garden, to count our lovely visitors?  Fingers crossed they remember us, come Fall 2018.

OCTOBER:  LITTLE FREE LIBRARY FUN
One night in October, 30 East High Spartans spent the evening playing with and handing out candy to hundreds of Everett Elementary students and their parents.  I think that, when I retire in a year and a half, I will count the East High Little Free Library project as a highlight of my 30+ years in education.  So many people, young and old, coming together because reading rocks. . . What's not to love about that?

NOVEMBER:  FOXY FUN!
One day before my favorite holiday (Thanksgiving--duh!), two wonderful things happened.  I saw a fox in our backyard and I found out that an Everett neighbor was willing to have a Little Free Library in their front yard.  By midmorning, I was simply beside myself, in love with this wonderful world of ours.

DECEMBER:  HUSKER VOLLEYBALL!
Between being a mom and a public educator, it's no wonder that I fell in love with the Husker Volleyball team this year.  A rag-tag collection of women who, through love and grit and crazy plays at the net, took home the gold.  As though they hadn't already won the gold . . . .