Fall walks are as highly rated as beach walks. Fall walks are as pleasing as a walk through Scottish heather on a craggy Scottish cliff overlooking the Scottish sea.
A fall walk is free, invigorating, and more than likely, requires only a step out the front door. A jacket, a hat, maybe gloves if it's an early morning walk.
Walks are heavenly in the company of oneself. Walks are divine with friends who speak fondly of family, of God, of joy.
Walks are best with Tony.
Stroller walks with babes beneath my arms are top notch.
Fall walks are the last brownie. Fall walks are that last precious hour of light in the garden. Fall walks are the closing night of a Broadway play. Fall walks are the day before the last child is dropped off at kindergarten. Fall walks are the last day in Paris. Fall walks are the day before one turns into a new decade.
Fall walks are to be savored. For fall walks are on the precipice of winter walks. When a layer of thermals and a puffy coat, a knitted cap and gloves are an absolute. When the cold stings one's nose and one has to wait until the ice melts.
Fall walks are discovering that overnight elves have painted leaves, sidewalks and the sky. They are the gathering of a thousand birds in the treetops, the incessant chatter, as they plan and pivot to fly south.
Fall walks--indulge.
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