The woman was sitting at the edge of the trail, painting.
I could see the river scene she was working on by looking over her shoulder, but her back was to the river, and the scene didn’t look anything like what was directly in front of her.
So I’m assuming she was working from either inspiration or memory.
We noticed a few other people painting . There was also a guy resting in a hammock, and a couple others sunbathing on the dock along the edge of the Charles River.
The trail itself was full of walkers, runners, cyclists and people on rollerblades. Geese were roaming on the grass, although we had to stop at one point so a quartet of them could cross, “Abbey Road” style (although the geese were going in the opposite direction as John, Paul, George and Ringo).
It felt like a proper summer day, albeit at least a month early, since the average May high in the Boston area is in the upper 60s.
Suzi and I needed those walks last year.
Other than shopping or picking up food, they were basically the only way to get out of the house, and just about the only recreation allowed outside the house.
Mondays, we walked on the street past the local museum. Tuesdays were for the trail down the hill from our house.
On Thursdays, we walked to the train station, which was usually desolate, and on Fridays, we did a loop past a couple farms.
Sometimes on weekends, if we were feeling ambitious or had to do our 5K virtually, we took a long walk past the golf course.
But all of those were right near where we lived, either starting at our house or just a few minutes away.
Wednesday was when we stretched ourselves out a bit, taking advantage of the numerous walking trails in the region.
Some of the walks were farther afield on our regular trail or a couple trails in the immediate area, but we also trekked to the outskirts of Boston and the New Hampshire border. We’d usually find a parking place to start from, walk a mile out (about 20 minutes) and a mile back, and then come back the next week and do the same thing in the other direction.
The scenery was mostly trees and water, and as numerous trails run along old railroad tracks, we saw abandoned pieces of rail, restored trains, stations refurbished and stations left decrepit. One walk literally ended when the tracks appeared for as far as the eye could see.
And we met a dog named Finn, the highlight of an otherwise drab walk forced upon us when construction blocked the trail.
We like the walks, and try to do one every day, but we don’t need them like we used to, not when we’re trapped in the house a little bit less all the time.
Walking Trail Wednesday took us through the heat of summer, the cool of fall, a winter in which the first concern each week was whether it was too slippery to walk and back to needing to bring a water bottle. But this week’s was our last, at least for now.
It’s not that we’re bored or otherwise ready to be done with it, just that we’ve basically exhausted all the trails in our local area until a trail extension and bridge being built over a local highway are done.
We’ll check that out when it happens. Of course, that may be a while.
What will we do instead? Theoretically, we could do anything, but after having not gone since last March, we’ve decided the time is just about right to go back to our gym.
When one trail ends, another path begins — hopefully more and more all the time …