Spit Walka...

Woah. That was quite a walk. Well, every day is quite a walk. It's become a weekday tradition. Walking and talking just seem to go together. Did you ever notice the difference between two men walking together and two women walking together? Well, my dear friend ("TFC") and I are the exaggerated version of any two women steppin' out on a walk with one another. After doing the checklist for necessary supplies from the car, parked at the base of the Spit Trail, ...lip gloss, ("check"), keys, ("check"), tissues, ("check"), and today a CAMERA, ("ooo, yeah, check!), we are off.
In our exuberance to get across the street, we risk life and limb, jutting to the other side of the street through darting traffic. (Why are they staring at us? We are already hysterical with laughter, and we haven't even begun our walk yet!) Once on the trail, we get the crazed cadence down, nearly tripping one another in unison. We revert to 8 year-olds. Silliness! Side note, (aka "bunny trail): We're sure to dress in layers. It can feel like Palm Springs going one way on the trail, but then on the way back to our waiting car, it can feel like outer Siberia. We are too hot, then we are freezing our hinies off.
It's as if someone let us out of our cages. We are mid-life women wanting to do cartwheels! (perhaps one of these days, we'll actually try one, just as an added attraction to the passing cars along our route!) Today, "TFC "goes up for a cheerleader HOORAY, displaying our enthusiasm with springtime, and sunshine and gettin' out in the fresh air and moving our tushies. Last week, during one of our daily walks, I broke into a serious Karate move, in child-like playfulness. An unsuspecting biker then rode past us, and begged me not to try my karate on him. ("woopie-doopie", then came a mili-second of embarrassment on my part). OK, down to business. Head on out. Let's pick up the pace. We bring up topic #1, and are usin' our hands in gesture. Soon, we are whackin' each other on the forearm, as we crack each other up. We're talking in Italian accents, O.K. ,well....maybe it sounds more like broken Czechoslovakian, and pitiful at that. With an airport but shouting distance of our trail, small air traffic is almost constant. Suddenly, a huge military plane takes off and heads over us, drowning out EVEN our LOUD screeches! We scream at remembering the exact experience a couple weeks ago, when we were convinced of certain decapitation. Deep breath. Ah, we're still alive. Regaining composure, we kick it in gear and head on our way. Life is glorious. We review our week's goals as we walk. No, neither of us has accomplished #2.....buying new shoes laces. (oh, for heaven sakes, is that the worst of our unsuccessful aspirations this week? Ha!) We can't remember #3 or #4, but for sure we can cover #1 on the phone, later today. Podcasting. I have a podcast "TFC" just must subscribe to. She needs some assistance in the techie dept., which I will be more than happy to help with. How groovy that will be for her on her boat this weekend, (with the hubby), to be able to look sophisticated with her little ear-buds in, like some intellectual, listening to a podcast. Oh sure, she'd rather be rocking out to some punk music :0), or rather, Andrea Bocelli, or "our" Tony Bennett, but this podcast she'll love. You go, "TFC"!! Go catch them big 'uns, and then you can have a fresh fish dinner, which I know you love to prepare and enjoy.
The walk takes us along the ever beautiful HoMeR SpIt, which has kept it's beauty, despite many changes in the 30 years that we've been here. Eagles still take flight on the sea breeze around us, and the breathtaking peaks across the Bay are blanketed with a generous amount of seasonal snow. Most probably, they are still accumulating new snow at their higher elevations, from time to time. It has been a very cool spring. By cool, I don't mean the way the two of us look as we're walking, in our designer sweats and "TFC"'s cinched black wind-parka hood, but the drawn-out freezing cold days that just DON'T want to give it up to the warmer season approaching. At least we THINK it's approaching. But momentarily, we are convinced that we are walking along the most pleasing place on Earth. Look at us! Slimming women. Active women. CRAZY women. No kids at home to have to skid home for. For this hour, we encapsulate living with eyes WIDE open, vigor in our step. A joy in our hearts.