You can’t go fast around here on account of the lovely creatures that live in these climes. There are the deer, of course. There was the mama duck with her trailing family of ducklings crossing NY-23, the main road through Windham that also apparently connects almost every other town around here. There are the groundhogs and squirrels that dart hither&thither into the street, and the woodchuck who lives in our backyard. (Possibly woodchucks and groundhogs are the same thing? I could look it up but I’m not going to in this particular moment.) Lots of furry, feathered, and long-limbed cuties to keep an eye out for in order not to mess with their lives.

There is a deeper something tucked inside this slow-down necessity as well. A general vibe that I realize is personal. As mentioned in last(?) week’s post, taking walks used to be my opportunity to listen to podcasts, books, and musical acts such as Måneskin on my headphones but since the move, my walks have instead found me listening to trees, frogs, and birds. A random driver may come down the road to catch me holding my phone above my head so that the Merlin app can identify a bird up in a tree. I do get that I could literally just hold my phone normally at my side in order to record/identify the bird except that my habit of getting above the street noise is a habit. This act, whether literally or metaphorically, of thinking I need to get above things so that I can find peace or quiet is a thing woven in from a life lived in busy places where always being alert to what’s around that could mess with me is just part of the daily hee-haw. A friend just moved to a high-up floor with a beautiful view. The sense of peace and quiet appears palpable even as she lives in a really busy part of the city.

So that’s what I was used to: Need to climb up a little high so I can let down my guard. It’s not that I don’t have to be aware of my surroundings here. See mention of neighbor’s dog in last week’s post, not to mention that surprising or upsetting any of the life that lives among these trees could lead to scary moments, but as far as the cacophony of. a population, that is much different. It leaves a lot of wide-open spaces to view more wide-open spaces, which don’t require fast movement to make it across the street before a UPS truck smashes into me or a pedestrian breathes angrily down my neck.

To slow down. Sounds great. Is great. Also, honestly, terrifying. The mental wide-open spaces hold thoughts&feelings that have been on the margins due to me having to hurry across mental highways before being smashed by metaphorical vehicles filled with complicated things. My inner speed walker is very good at keeping inches ahead of that gnarly pack of judgmental grousers just at my heels. Suddenly, somewhere in between the frog’s calls from the pond down the road—sounds that are so funky and coo—are little chirps of Hey, there, human, there’s some sorrow&joy bubbling around. What say you relax and stay for a while? My intersection of thoughts may be busy but I’m not really in danger of being smashed out of existence by any load-bearing four-wheelers. It’s not lost on me how much I tend to overplan and overthink what might be the right moment and place to sink into my emotions as if I can control them rather than just jump in and let them carry me away like the river down the street carries off pretty much everything. Kind of like when my friend M and I went inner-tubing in Phoenicia decades ago and just floated willy-nilly away. That was fun but also kind of painful in the hoo-ya, ouch, pebbles, cold, but also wheee beautiful kind of way.

So now I have some wide open spaces to wander through, some different kind of silence to sink into, and yes, for sure I have things to do still that require showing up and sticking to a jobby-job schedule but the space around those commitments does not require a great amount of mental furniture: a good view will do and a desire to stay a bit quieter and move a little slower.