The Walk

Our favorite walk in Norfolk is about 4 miles long. Starting from our home near the village center we do a loop towards the east and back, up Laurel Way and back on Greenwoods Road, then a loop towards the west, out by Mountain Road and back on Sunset Ridge. In addition to all the times we have done “The Walk,” we go by places where I’ve been countless times as a native of this rural town.

A surprising amount of things have stayed the same over the years. The nice estates along Laurel Way have not changed much. The traffic along Greenwoods Road does not seem to me to be all that much different over the past sixty years. The iconic split rail fence across from the ball field, along Norfolk’s most famously pastoral stretch of road, looks much the same. The Mill Pond outlets under a bridge to become Buttermilk Falls the same way as always. Ky Byrne, the support driver for our American Discovery Trail journey, still lives in her same home, just as we do in mine. We still have a Memorial Day parade.

If you are not a Norfolk native you might not know that the senior housing at Meadowbrook was once my elementary school, nor that where the elementary school is now used to be a seminary. You might not know that the children’s room at the library was added on, or that there used to be a grand stand at the ball field, where I consistently burned hot dogs that the Scouts were selling at American Legion games. You might not know that the post office and bank were around the corner from where they are located now. You might not know that the vacant convenience store was once the town’s pharmacy with an old style soda fountain and ten cent comic books for purchase. You might not know what year the Memorial Day five-mile race started (or, apparently, that the fastest times were in the 25-26 minute range).

Of course there have been some changes that even a newcomer would know about. We have a farmers market. We have a new EMT building. We have Infinity Hall, which used to be the Apple House and, before that, Mubarek’s Market. The pub is under new ownership yet again, this time as the Wood Creek Bar and Grill. For the first (only?) time this past year a couple of Air Force jets flew over during our Memorial Day ceremony.

The Walk brings a flood of memories for me every time. They would for Cindy as well, if she could recall memories such as catching fireflies at the ball field, outdoor barbecues with our Yale Music School students, playing with our kids at the village green’s fountain or visiting the children’s room of the library. She might recall the people we often encountered when we first went on The Walk and how that has changed over the years.

On our last walk Cindy’s mood changed constantly. Going up Shepherd Road she was agitated by recent events. On Laurel Way she was calm and able to reflect how often we have been on The Walk. Going down Greenwoods Road she feared the passing large trucks. Around the Village Green her mood grew sullen. As we cut across the Yale Music School she started to cry, perhaps over having trouble recalling who the man was kindly walking with her.

At the junction of West Side and Mountain Roads she wanted to take the long way and go by Ky’s house. When we did not see Ky I gave her a hug as a substitute and she warmly embraced me. Was her mind back in focus? Not quite. Later on Sunset Ridge Road she suddenly said: “What is this all about?” followed by “They don’t know.” Yet she had a good-natured smile, regardless of where her mind was taking her. When we reached the top of Buttermilk Falls she came to a stop. This time she took the initiative in giving me a romantic embrace, leaving no doubt that she knew who I was. We ended our walk by getting free cookies that the National Iron Bank gives out each Friday.

We first did The Walk in about an hour. Now we take two hours or more. Last year at this time Cindy and I hiked 25 road miles in eight hours during our Pacific Crest Trail journey. There was a point during that hike when Cindy was a little bit out of it, but obviously she still had her “Expedition Woman” vibe going. Six months ago, while snowbirds in Venice, Florida, completing a ten mile hike felt like quite an achievement. Six months after that four miles seems to be near our limit. I even wonder if we might be doing too much now.

If the current trend continues, we will only manage 1.6 mile walks in Florida this coming winter, if we can make it down there at all. Next July we might manage just a little more than a half mile. With this weighing on my mind I squeeze all the nostalgia I can into The Walk now, knowing what a blessed life we have had here in Norfolk. Such warmth and such pain all in one daily stroll.