This blog post has stuck in my mind ever since I read it and I want to share it with you. (I know of this blog from my friend, Di, who always introduces me to the very best writers, musicians, photographers, poets… Thank you, Di.)
It’s the unpredictable incidents between official events that add up to a life, the incalculable that gives it value. Both rural and urban walking have for two centuries been prime ways of exploring the unpredictable and incalculable, but now they are under assault on many fronts.
New time-saving technologies make most workers more productive, not more free, in a world that seems to be accelerating around them. Too, the rhetoric of efficiency around these technologies suggests that what cannot be quantified cannot be valued — that that vast array of pleasures which fall into the category of doing nothing in particular, of woolgathering, cloud-gazing, wandering, window-shopping, are nothing but voids to be filled by something more definite, more productive, or faster paced….
I am about to go walking with Pickles and I vow to spend some time cloud gazing, dreaming, imagining, or even just kicking stones along the dirt road behind our house.