Walking in Search of my Muse

I took my 40-minute walk today and in doing so hoped to find a story.  I went in search of my Muse this afternoon, for inspiration that had been eluding me all Sunday morning. 

I have a 40-minute walk that is pretty much a staple of my daily existence. Whenever it’s 30 degrees or higher, factoring in the wind, it’s my go-to exercise.  Other days when it’s too cold or rainy, I visit the gym or do a yoga class.  Ever since Obama became president and demonstrated that he had time in his extraordinarily busy day to exercise, I decided I could too.  So my 40-minute walk has become part of my daily life – meandering around lots of neighborhood houses and streets.  Often it’s unusually quiet no matter what time of day I venture out.  Where is everyone? I wonder.  Inside? I used to walk and think of that Wallace Stevens poem “Disillusionment of Ten O’Clock” which I used to teach.  “The houses are haunted by white nightgowns… Here’s that poem:

Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock

 The houses are haunted
 By white night-gowns.
 None are green,
 Or purple with green rings,
 Or green with yellow rings,
 Or yellow with blue rings.
 None of them are strange,
 With socks of lace
 And beaded ceintures.
 People are not going
 To dream of baboons and periwinkles.
 Only, here and there, an old sailor,
 Drunk and asleep in his boots,
 Catches tigers
 In red weather.

Basically I think Stevens is saying that people who live in boring houses with boring lives (wearing nondescript, boring sleepwear perhaps!) will have boring dreams.  I‘d wonder about this suburban neighborhood and my suburban neighbors in their haunted houses in white nightgowns.

Walking around my neighborhood would also make me think about that song “Little Boxes” and hear the music in my head.  It’s sort of a protest song about how everyone conforms.  You can google “Little Boxes” and hear a cool version by Pete Seeger from the 60s.

Here’s an excerpt:

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same,
There's a pink one and a green one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

Today was quite different than usual however. Even though it was still quite cold, like around 40 degrees with a stubborn wind, lots of people were out.  There was the boy in shorts playing basketball with his dad, and a few kids playing lacrosse in their yard. A girl and her mom were walking an adorable dog, and there were many more dog walkers than usual, come to think of it. Quite a few St. Patrick’s Day wreaths adorned doors, saluting today. Birds were out and the sky was azure, and this otherwise quiet neighborhood was bursting with activity.  What a departure from my usual walk! With crocuses emerging from the dirt, perhaps we are really moving in a new direction.