My friends Neil and Sarah walk around a lake near their home in Canberra, the way we walk around Wascana Lake. But it seems that they get something profound out of the experience–something deeper than my engagement with this place. When walking becomes a routine, when I’m walking a regular path, I tend to tune out, to get bored. But Neil and Sarah seem to respond differently, and I’m not entirely sure how they do it. I wish I knew their secret.
Sarah was interviewed by the Australian Broadcasting Corporation for a program about imagining the land as a spiritual home and she talked about how their walks are part of that imagining. I’m intrigued, especially if their walks take them around Burley Griffin Lake, which (Wikipedia tells me) is an artificial lake prone to toxic blue-green algae blooms and surrounded by institutions (the Parliament, Australian National University)–in other words, a body of water with more than a passing resemblance to Wascana Lake. I asked Neil when I saw him in Victoria two weeks ago, but we didn’t really get a chance to talk about it.
I was thinking about these things when we walked around Wascana Lake for the umpteenth time today. For a change, we walked clockwise, rather than counterclockwise. Seeing things from a different direction made a slight difference. For instance, I noticed more native plants: buffaloberry, wild liquorice, and a large patch of blue grama grass. How the blue grama manages to survive amid aggressive agronomic species like crested wheat grass and smooth brome is a mystery to me. But I’m glad it does. It’s my favourite native grass, purely on aesthetic grounds. It’s just beautiful.
We ran into our friend Troni, who was on her way to spend the afternoon working in her office. I wish I had that kind of dedication. To be fair, I did think about the essays I’m going to assign my students this fall, and later I’ll do a little reading. But I’ll be reading in the porch, not in an office on campus. And it’s possible that a gin-and-tonic will make an appearance.
I was surprised to see pelicans still on the lake. I thought they would’ve already left. It’s a long trip to the Gulf of Mexico, after all. There were lots of ducks and geese, and even a cormorant. swimming along with his wings outstretched.
Our path took us over the city’s only hill. I ought to spend hours repeatedly walking up and down it. Maybe that would help me develop some hill-climbing stamina. It’s worth trying.
When we got back to our neighbourhood, we went to the local community centre, where 10 chefs from the Syrian community were putting on a food sale. I was too busy eating to take any pictures of the food. I hope someone opens a Syrian restaurant here. Although I’d want to eat there all the time, which could become a problem.
It was a lovely walk, I’ll admit, but did it help me think of this place as my spiritual home? I’m not sure. The Saw Whet Trail makes me feel that way. Maybe asking every walk to do that is simply being greedy. I’ll think about it the next time I walk around the lake.