Serendipity

“I forgot a bag again,” I thought this morning as I set off on my morning walk.  The beer can glistening in the morning sun reminded me that I wanted to bring a bag on my walk to collect the cans I see along the way.  I counted twenty the other day.

By the time I got to the Ledford Chapel boat ramp (my halfway point), I decided I could at least pick up two cans and carry them back to the house.  So I grabbed the Bud Light Lime can (really?  Who drinks beer mixed with lime juice??), turned it over to dump the remaining beer out, then walked down to the lake to rinse it.  On my way, I picked up another can and rinsed that one out, too.

As I started my walk back, I noticed a woman come down her driveway with two dogs in tow.  She turned onto the road and headed the same direction I was going.  By the time I got to her driveway, a man was coming down with another dog.  We greeted each other and he said, “Thanks for picking up those cans.”  I explained that I keep intending to bring a bag but can’t seem to remember.  “We forget, too.  So we bring them to staging areas along the way and pick them up later in our walk.”  I told him I’d been thinking of doing the same thing.

I made friends with his dog, then we chatted as we continued walking together.

A scene from my morning walk

We caught up to his wife and she and I continued on while he stayed back with the slower dog.

“Do you live around here?” she asked.

“I’m living temporarily on Chatuge Lane,” I said. “But I walk this road every day since I’m getting ready to walk the Camino.”

“Oh!  I’ve heard about that!” she said.  We talked about my pedometer, my plans, where I’d be staying, what I’d bring.

“No more than twelve pounds,” I said.

“That can be a lot of weight after a while,” she said.

“Well, that’s my max.  The good news is I don’t have to bring a tent of anything like that because there are places to stay along the way.  But I might bring a sleeping mat in case I get to a hostel too late and have to sleep on the floor.”

“You know, I have a thin mat I was going to bring to the thrift store to donate today.  Would that be something you’d be interested in?”

“Oh, yes!” I said.  “That would be great!”

She offered to leave it on a mailbox along my route and I could pick it up tomorrow.  At the end of Ledford Chapel Road, we parted ways.  I thanked her again and commented on how I love the serendipity of life.  She agreed.

A View from the steps of Ledford Chapel

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4 thoughts on “Serendipity

  1. Thank you, Rebecca–it helps me remember to fully inhabit every minute so that I don’t miss the truly important things right in front of me.

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