I started my walk with the fog in my face. A bird chirped high above and I clicked my first photo. As I looked for a better angle I heard the depressing sound of the phone switching itself off. Oh well, I thought it was for the best. This was my first walk outside without the children and I felt excited. Actually any time the temperature goes above the 50 degree mark I feel excited.

There was a small path next to the road. It made me feel special. It felt like someone cared enough for walking creatures to put it in. It was separated from the road by a grassy patch. The fog rolled through the spaces between houses and patches of wilderness. Sweet, romantic, patches of wild growth on my side of the path that almost made me forget the tar road with cars zipping by every few minutes. A squirrel in profile nibbled at an acorn on a branch close to me. A dark green, crisscross wire fence separated me from the wet, mulch slope and trees. An orange coloured ditch lay at the bottom of the slope. A sleeping stream to be explored in the Spring. I felt the fog on my face, soft and thick, humid but cold. After a few quiet minutes I heard cackling, honking geese flying south, chirping birds i could not see, the rustle of creatures hidden in the mulch and fallen leaves, a battle of the birds in a tree that had seemed lifeless a second ago, a squirrel leaping through entangled branches, then suddenly all was quiet again. There is a messy, wet, grow without a care, grow against all odds air about this wilderness, even as it is boxed in on many sides by subarbia.

Sensations of love and acceptance of my path flooded me. It was not lost on me that i had been living a few minutes from this walk for 3 weeks. My life is unpredictable, messy, surprising, full of odd activities, home made jokes of the kind only someone living in this home would get, spills, requests for yet more food and loud bursts of laughter and questions that range from whether Jesus was a real man to what is a spleen. Ironically my life is exactly like the wilderness.

But i have fought it and tried to tame my life, my children, my husband even. I have tried hard to manicure the wilderness. And like the tree-bark that has successfully wrapped itself around and through the fencing, I feel the creatures in my life fighting back. Quietly they spread their shiny toys and art, their messes and games, until suddenly I realise that this is how it is supposed to be. The walk cannot wait. I will do my walk and not clean up. The dishes called me to clean but the fog outside beckoned harder. So i walked. And now while one child sleeps into the morning and the other is upstairs gaming and laughing with friends on Skype, I will write about my walk and not plan breakfast. I feel wild and untamed, living like a messy bachelor who knows that life is in the moment, the cleaning can wait on this pretty foggy day.