Walking Into the Sunset

According to Idioms by The Free Dictionary, the term "riding into the sunset" means "To resolve or conclude things in a neat, happy, and satisfactory fashion; to retire from work, use, or relevance, especially on a positive note or after a long and successful period of activity." When I read that definition, I thought how nice it would be if COVID Life would ride off into the sunset for once. I refer to the ending in a neat and happy fashion, and the part about retiring after a long period of activity, not so much the word "successful". 

If there will be anything to be described as successful about this time, perhaps it will have to do with lessons we've learned, the new perspectives we've gained. I'm convinced that, for me, the good memories of this time will include a more relaxed schedule, more time bonding with family and friends, and more moments observing nature.

One of my activities during COVID involving all three of those memories is walking. I don't walk nearly as often as Ken does (he's up to a 16,000+ steps daily goal!) but I walk several times a week, most often in the evenings. I usually walk with Ken or Kerra, or both, and sometimes with a friend. I love seeing beauty in nature as I walk. Once in a while I take my camera along, and photograph some of that beauty. It slows down the walking, for sure, but it speeds up my enjoyment of the activity.

I notice the variety in clouds - from great hulking masses that backdrop a whole set of farm and town buildings...

...to the horsetails wispy-swishing across the blue yonder.

Flowers take my eye - the dainty elegance of Queen Anne's Lace...

...the milkweed's purple burst of fireworks... 

...and the spiky teasel spearing the evening sky. 

And who knew that going-to-seed wild asparagus in the ditch has tiny yellow bells along its ferny fronds?

I take note of all the rabbits. There are many. I call them names like Fiver and Bigwig and wonder about their secret life, especially since reading Watership Down, our first book in the Book Club for we3@home this summer.

I marvel at the way God enhances ordinary scenes of grasses, weeds, and leaves by placing a setting sun behind them.  

"Walking into the sunset." I can't think of a much better term for describing the event of strolling along our road with Ken on a summer evening, sometimes hand in hand, "retiring from work, especially on a positive note, in a neat, happy, and satisfactory fashion." I call that "successful" for making good memories. Thanks, COVID.

                         Photo cred: Kerra Martin