The walk

Munchkin is the world’s best barometer. On a bad day she centers herself on my bed giving out illness-producing looks to anyone who would dare suggest she move. On a good day she can’t get out fast enough to consort with Goose, the neighbor’s cat, and keep the garden free from footed and winged critters.

Today her purr woke me and she did that two-legged walk she has so perfected to lead me to the door.

Her accuracy was right on, and I decided to take advantage of this holiday and do something I’d been meaning to do since I moved almost two years ago – walk from Corsier to Geneva.

Walking allows you to see what isn’t visible from a bus. A pansy face is more intense up close. A toad is only visible when walking, but it also conjured up memories of my daughter at 18 months when after work each night she wanted to go to a place that toads gathered, a reptilian conference so to speak. Llara would hunker down and the toads of all ages held her attention for up to 15 minutes. I learned more about toads that summer than before or after.

Today it was ladybirds/bugs that littered the sidewalk and I was careful to step around. Two seemed attached like a double lorry as they ran in tandem. I wondered if it were some kind of mating ritual.

One of the mansions along the lake, turned out to be four apartments probably broken up a while back. Up close I could examine the details of the villas and chalets that the bus rushed by.

And I could smell the water as the boats bobbed on the surface.

The walk took about an hour and a half and I did catch the bus back. Coming back to the house Munchkin was no where to be seen. She obviously was not ready to let go of being outside.