Walkabout

One of the things I love most about the little apartment in the woods near my small college on the hill is the wonderful walkability that it provides. Living here, I can walk anywhere I need to, especially on those bad weather days when getting the car out means you're tempting fate.

Last summer, when Dr. S and I taught in the program designed for underrepresented students (the one I will be teaching again this June after my defense), she would walk absolutely everywhere. I found that curious because, good Puerto Rican that I am, I've been used to driving everywhere. Even in our little city I do a lot of driving, compared to when I'm here and the car just sits in the parking lot for several days at a time. That's how I know that I've become acculturated to this small-town environment because I've become much more of a walker. I mean, I've always walked for exercise but now I walk just to walk. In environmental and physical health terms, being here is a plus in many ways.

This morning, the dogs and I were able to take a longish, 2-mile walk after the plows had cleared the roads of the about 4 inches of snow that have accumulated over two days of winter weather. The dogs definitely seem to enjoy our walks here more than in our little city because there's much more to smell. Rusty even seems rejuvenated as if he knew the myriad possibilities of what we might come across in our walks. Indeed, I've decided to avoid a particular stretch of one of our walk versions because the area reeks rather strongly of skunk and I'm not interested in having a close encounter with one of those.

The dogs, especially Rusty, also like the compactness of my little apartment in the woods. My husband theorizes that it's because it feels much more like a den than our big three-story house in the little city. Here, the dog always knows where I am and can easily verify it, as he likes to do, by coming over and poking his head in the bathroom whenever I'm in there getting ready for class. He'll come, edge the door ajar with his nose, look in, and once he verifies my whereabouts, he turns around and walks back to his favorite bed in the living room between the two large, comfy chairs and in front of the tall bookshelves.

Geni is a blissful soul who adapts to any circumstance (for years she lived in the dark, damp attached garage of our first house in Ohio because she absolutely refused to come inside and would get very nervous and agitated if we forced her to do so), but even she also seems happier here because she's not relegated to a mud room, as she feels she must in our big house. Instead, she comes into the living room to enjoy the plush carpet and to nudge me with her nose so I pet her while I work at the computer, something she can't do back home since I'm always ensconced in the basement.

Today, the wind isn't making the already cold temperatures feel frigid, and the roads are very well cleared, and it's not snowing or sleeting or raining so today is going to be another day of walking to and from the small college on the hill. I'll take my fabulous Shuffle with me for company and salsa my way into town. The music will do its magic but I know I also will be exhilarated by the beauty of the Winter Wonderland into which everything has been turned, because of the layers of white, white snow that has turned everything, even the sad, denuded trees, into frosted cupcakes.