It was a Saturday with a ton of people on the trail—mostly bikers. So much of the walk was out in the bare open sun that for the first time in PA, i was feeling oppressed by it. Most of the trail was right alongside the Schuylkill and it made me feel like i was flowing forward with the water. Other than being nervous about the start of the walk, I hadn't felt nervous about where we were going and how close i'd be to my parents and former home. I was excited to move again. A day of rest was good for my body but terrible for my mind. Moving myself keeps the pace with the rate that my mind speeds ahead.
But parts were off. Distances i thought would be short felt long and the ones i thought were long felt short. Suddenly we were in Norristown, then we were out of Norristown. Then in a place where streets were familiar but scenery wasn't. When i lived in Lansdale, i never had my driver's license, so my experience was very provincial. I went as far as i could walk or bus and since walking, bussing and driving are 3 entirely different experiences, i had a different impression. My sense of direction and where certain streets went was off. Nothing related. Now i knew exactly where i was and where the street would take me. Getting in a vehicle just creates blank space in between places.
I know i was walking in areas i'd been in before but everything felt new. The scenery was just itself without meaning the past. I was just myself moving through it and finding a narrow space to walk. My breath and legs and heart had a rhythm and i would just keep moving until i was at the spot i thought i should stop.
We stopped at a hotel less than one mile from my parents house. And all i could think of that night was getting up early to walk to it, just to see it.
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