Take a walk . . .

Saturday. Sofa. Coffee.

I tend to get up with the sun.  My adherence to natural circadian rhythm contributes to my general worthlessness in the dead of winter, when the sun is as sluggardly as I, rising late and turning in early. I think I may have evolved more from the hibernating bear rather than the tropical ape.  People that know me well would say I retain significant traits of both.   But now, as we sprint toward June's summer solstice, the longest day of the year around here, I awake early.  It is a beautiful time of the year to get up early in Alabama and go for a walk.  As the sky begins to lighten, the birds squawk and sing (perhaps they are all singing, just some are more musical than others, but at least they are joyful). I like to sleep with the window open, so the music of my feathered neighbors make my cell phone alarm completely unnecessary. Before the first rays of the sun finally hurdle over the ridge of Streight Mountain (now spelled Straight Mountain, but it was originally named for a Yankee Union Army officer named Streight, perhaps the reason for the spelling change), the deer graze cautiously at the edge of the treeline outside my window and other small varmints like armadillos, raccoons, skunks and possums (I have no opossums around my house, no matter what the zoologists say, my critters are not that pretentious) forage around hurriedly like vampires anticipating the dangers of the imminent light. (Except for the armadillos, they are getting a little too bold for my taste as they look at me as if to say, "I'm wearing this armor shell, what are you going to do about me digging these divots in your yard?")

The major flora feature of the morning walk was the abundance of wild cherries that had fallen on the pathway. The soles of my shoes were purple by the time I made it back to the house.  Wild cherries are edible, though not a very efficient fruit, each cherry being about one quarter the size of an M&M. And there is a pit inside. But, it is still fun to eat a few, wondering if one could survive on such fare for very long. My mother claims you could eat enough of the ripe cherries to get drunk.  I don't have that kind of patience.  In younger days they were the early summer source for the poor man's paint ball, perfect for hurling at passers by.  While not nearly so loaded as the purple berries of the polk sallet (yes, I know, we all call it polk salad, as in Tony Joe White's southern anthem "Polk Salad Annie"), the wild cherries were sufficient until the polk salad plants went to seed later in the summer.

Alabama is a wondrous place to live.  Everyone that lives here, regardless of race, religion, economic status, sexual preference or fashion taste, can enjoy perfect, peaceful early summer mornings, the music of the wildlife, the beauty and abundance of the plant life, even in the middle of our largest urban areas if one is willing to look a little harder. Alabama's gifts of creation are available to all in a very democratic way.  In fact, those Alabamians who have less money to use pursuing the shiny, shallow attractions, or maybe distractions, of popular culture, seem more knowledgeable of the best places to enjoy the natural abundance within walking or short driving distance.  Creek banks.(Underneath bridges make the best secluded easy access getaways)  Swimming holes. Hideaways tucked in giant limestone formations reachable only by root and rock filled pathways. Mountain top vistas (sometimes enhanced by climbing water tanks or fire towers).  Even secluded gathering spots along old abandoned railroad beds.

It seems that of all places, Alabama has a head start on equality, as endowed by a generous Creator.  And yet, as managers of this abundant garden that we have been given, we allow cruel inequalities to continue.

The notion of equality is acknowledged in our Constitutions, both federal and State, penned by the hands of men.  But, the reality of equality is exhibited by the author of that equality,  the abundance of the Creator in full display on early summer mornings like this.

Forget politics. Please.

Just take a walk this weekend and ponder if you have done anything to deserve the beauty and abundance of the natural world.

Sometimes our mothers get it right. Maybe not about wild cherries making us drunk.

But it is better to share.

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