The Walking Dread

I quite like to walk – that pleasant stroll through nature (or the nearby cemetery), where I can let my mind run free, or listen to some good music. At this time of the year it can be fraught with danger – it’s magpie season. At any point there’s the possibility of being swooped or chased by magpies or plovers. They’re protecting their nests but in the process can cause fear, or actual harm, to an unsuspecting passerby. This time of the year I tend to stay at home until the season’s over, but by that time it’s starting to get too hot to walk, and I’m out of the habit.
This year has been a bit strange. On the occasions I’ve been out in areas I’ve previously avoided because of swooping, I’ve had no trouble, even if I can see nesting pairs in the vicinity. I don’t know if they’re all just not being aggressive this year or lulling us in to a false sense of security before launching the bird apocalypse…

Nevertheless, I’ve twice walked home from town this week – 35-40 minutes at a fairly brisk pace. Both times I couldn’t be bothered waiting for the bus, and I haven’t really had any ill effects from it. It’s a lovely time of year – not too hot, and still a cool breeze from time to time.
I’ve wandered around town as well, in this confusing sort-of-spring/summer season. Stopped to smell the roses (and, I believe, gardenias) at a new op shop; they were blowsy and sweetly fragranced (the roses, not the shop).