walkful musings.

While walking to a friends house the evening last, I was nearly ran over by a pizza motorcycle on the sidewalk, appropriately named because it's where people are supposed to WALK.

When walking in a city, paying attention to the lights that tell you when you should go is very important. Meaning, red tells you you should look really well before you cross. Some people think it means don't cross. I don't know the Korean to tell them it's not that at all. One of the perks of the everyone go green light, however, is that the cars are supposed to stop for you. When someone wants to turn right and drive in front of me, they must wait. It's especially exciting when a big giant road commanding bus has to pause at my pace. In those instances, I usually imagine they are pausing because of my wicked good looks, and I usually see a few passengers snapping a photo or two. It's all a part of this not-delusional-at-all life I lead. You get used to it.

Walking this morning, I realized that I was the designated person in charge of clearing out all of the weaved webs the little spiders were so busy creating as the rest of the world slept. I was not honored to hold the title. They crossed the sidewalks in every single way imaginable. They grazed my forehead, stuck to the light layer of sweat on the skin of my arms, were tangled in my fingers, and threatened entering my mouth. Citizens of Cheonan that walk the same sidewalks: thanks to me, your walks today should be web free.

The point of my walk this morning was to see the sunrise. Wouldn't you know it, I was too early. At one point, when passing all of the excess covered buildings blocking my view, I ran a little because I was afraid I would be too late. Though I didn't catch the glory I had intended, I still loved the still of the morning, and the fog that had yet to lift, hovering over the wildflower lined gardens. Reaching the top of the hill, I accepted the fact that I was either to early, or the sun just wasn't going to greet me today; I turned and walked back down, the sun rising against my back, out of my sight.