Saturday walk

I stop to cross a road. On the other side an entrance to a park invites with a golden path and canopy. I walk over the road and pause for a moment to take a picture and then start walking again. Suddenly a gust of wind helps three tall birches to release the last of their little yellow leaves. Twirling and floating they joyfully dance through the air and land on the ground. The elm leaves join the game. A beautiful mindfulness moment in the nature. 

Suddenly I notice that guilt tries to rise its head in me. I have been walking for twenty minutes already being completely oblivious to my surroundings and fully lost in my thoughts about school, planning, emails to write, parents outside the school, human relationships, how easily people climb the ladder of inference, an unfinished story, the lunch, the uncharged vacuum cleaner. My head has had some heavy traffic. I don't need the guilt. Walking supports thinking perfectly, to sort things, to let go, to allow new ideas and solutions to emerge. I need the slow for thinking. I never have it during the school day. After the school day I am tired and my thoughts are equally flattened and motionless. So no guilt for a walking meeting with my thoughts. 

Pausing once in a while isn't bad either. So I stop again when I reach the middle of a bridge. I watch how a river catches the falling willow and maple leaves and carries them gently towards the distance. I am in a town park, so my ear catches the sounds of a saw and several leaf blowers, a car engine starting and a motorcycle speeding, dogs barking and children shouting. I can tune out the sounds, and my thoughts, and return to the slow flow of the river and the journey of the leaves. After a little while I am ready to move on. I take a video to post on my Instagram story.

As I keep walking I realise that the beautiful phase of the autumn is almost over. Most of the trees doze off leafless. The leaves on the ground have lost their crunch and color, and have become dangerously slippery brown mush. Not only is it getting uglier, its also getting darker. The sun sets before five o'clock already. Soon its going to be impossible to take photos - no light, no color. I am surprised I let this thought to arrive. Light and color is what I find. This is my motto on my Instagram. My brain switches to the writer and photographer mode. I keep my camera in hand. A sentence for a blog post arrives, I record it. I see an apple, pecked hollow, and snap a photo. Alternating between recording and taking pictures I arrive to a busy street. 

I return the phone to my pocket and continue with a brisk walk towards home. New thoughts mirror my pace. I think how sometimes I am in a company of people who comment with disbelief that other people have time for social media, writing blog post, posting instagram photos, they themselves are too busy for frivolous things like that. After hearing the judgement I don't dare to say that I check my Twitter daily, blog twice a week and often post photos on Instagram. For me it is part of who I am, yet I do not necessarily openly share it. It's safe to stay in the role and mask of a teacher and leader, quite often a serious and modest one. Not many people know about the spark and shine and a little playful creature inside me. I know I can make magic. I don't know whether I am brave enough, yet, to share this side of me widely.