Taking A Walk

by Dwayne Phillips

A golf course has plenty of open areas. These areas are supposed to be green, a beautiful lush green. This golf course was instead a glistening silver. Glorious. It was a glorious sight.

There is a short period of time on a morning blessed with frost that the landscape glistens in the sun. Before the sun rises, the ground is hard, wet, and colorless. When the sun appears everything glow. It is a matter of time before the sun melts the tiny crystals of ice and the frost becomes a heavy, messy dew. But oh, those glistening moments.

Such a morning was on the south side of Knoxville, Tennessee in late October of 2008. It was 35 degrees. The temperatures are not supposed to be that low in that place at that time, but such is the weather. The average conditions are a melding of the warm days and those that have frost. Average days are out of the ordinary; this is the science of statistics.

We had probably half a dozen days in Tennessee in October of 2008 where the temperature was 35 degrees in the morning. Some, like the one above, were blessed with glorious sights of frost in the sun. Most, however, were just plain cold.

My wife and I went to a store to buy extra clothes. I wore a long sleeve undershirt, a long sleeve shirt, a sweat shirt, and my yellow rain jacket. I then added something to cover my ears, a hat, a bandanna around my neck, and heavy gloves. On some days, I would remove a little here and a little there as the walking heated my body and the sun heated the road. On other days I kept all these adornments all day.

I have read books and watched videos that show the proper form for walking. Stand tall, head high, arms swaying at your sides matching your steps. Swing the arms, not too much, but not too little. Forget that stuff on a 35-degree morning. I would do everything to keep my body heat close to my body. I pulled my head down and forward so that my chin would press against my chest. I bent forward and hunched my shoulders. Most noticeable was my arms. I folded them tightly across my chest with my hands tucked under the opposite arms.

I didn’t have any cold days in October of 2009 in Alabama and Mississippi. If anything, the days were on the high side of the elusive average. I perspired heavily, anxious to remove my wet clothes in the evening.

I treasure the memory of the glistening fairway on that morning in Tennessee. I treasure the memory of the hot sun in other places at other times. All gifts for the person taking a walk.