Beauty in the Loneliness

This video is so beautiful. And it made me think of all of the solitary walks I've taken here at college. Rushing to class, strolling to church, walking to the library. And all of the wonderful things I've seen and wanted to share with others. The bitter cold day in January that I took a walk, and saw the beauty of the frozen world, passed the washboard harmonica player in the diag, and ended up buying girl scout cookies from a rather cheerful father-daughter duo. The time I saw a squirrel sneeze. The beauty in freshly falling snow, and behind a building where no one could see me, I tilted back my head and caught snowflakes in my mouth. The walks to the library, past the burger restaurant that always smells of falafel for some reason, the small park with the black modern art sculpture, and the adorable little yellow house tucked in between all the other two story renters. The shortcuts I've found, small alleyways in between buildings, often with arches over them so it feels like you are entering a tunnel to the unknown, and occasionally opening into small courtyards I've always wanted to stop and sit in.

And at home. The walks I've taken. The walks to Crane Park in the summer, with Buddy at my side, only returning when the sun is gone and the mosquitos are out, and the reassurance of the streets I know so well in the day and nighttime. The walks through the cemetery, often with no view in mind at all. Walking to and from school, especially in the early spring when it is finally getting warm out and I decide to take off my shoes and socks and walk barefoot. The walks to Paramount, where I sit quietly and swing slowly on the swings, wishing you, whoever you may be, were there. The walks out to Portage on a shopping adventure. The many, many walks with Buddy around the block, running the first block, my flip-flops smacking against the pavement and Buddy glancing at me, his tongue lolling.

All of those solitary walks I see something unexpectedly beautiful. And I always want to share it with someone, but I wonder if I would see those beautiful things if someone was with me. Would I appreciate the unexpected pleasure of my strolls, if I constantly had someone with me? Yet I always wish I could share the beauty.