A Sunday walk

Sunday after church, I enjoyed a brisk walk, the latter part of it in a light rain. In trying to find my way, I asked an older man who was also out for a walk and he kindly led me along the path for 5 or so minutes to get me to the next intersection and make sure I went the right way (Heaven's me! These people are nice!). We spoke of sports we both enjoy, and he laughed and told me to make sure I take advantage of my youth while it's still around. He used to run but has limited himself to walks since he hurt his knee. He commended my efforts as a triathlete and told me of a club I could join.

As we passed the rolling vineyards with their beautiful houses atop the overlooking hills , he spoke of a strong agricultural tradition; an attachment to the earth that persists even today. Why on earth else would anyone keep a farm going when the land (prime property 20 minutes from Geneva) could be sold or built on for many times the meager profit on their harvest of grapes?! Well, I for one am glad that the owners of that land have obstinately held to their farm. I can't be sure, but I like to think it has something to do with an affinity and appreciation for beauty and simplicity. I don't think John Muir was very far from a truth when he said "My father considered a walk in the mountains the equivalent of church-going".

And so it was appropriate that after a rainy retour, the sun finally broke through, and, in cathedral rays, illuminated the mountains just above my quaint home.