A Walk with a View

I was ready for a different kind of walk today.

A friend has messaged me, inviting me to join her and her beloved to hike Early Mountain but I had no idea where that was.

But it solidified my desire to walk someplace more nature-filled than Grace Street today.

My first inspiration was to go to Pony Pasture but I hadn't allowed for the Huguenot Bridge construction and no apparent access to the pasture right now.

You can tell I don't get out of the city proper much.

Of course, my knowledge of the southside could fit on the head of a pin, so maybe I just missed it.

What it meant was that I settled for the Huguenot flatwater area near the old Westham bridge.

I say that like I'd known there was an old Westham bridge, but I hadn't.

So I dutifully read the sign about the narrow road and bridge that linked north and southside for a while before setting out.

And while the river is technically flat water, today's wind meant that it was roiled up at the surface and anything but flat.

First I walked the trails around the bridge and flatwater, but all paths eventually led to bridge construction, not the most breathtaking of routes.

But walking along the river just west of the Huguenot bridge made for a series of scenic tableaux.

An upturned green canoe. A duck crossing sign. A rustic gazebo. Small benches for river gazing. Trees with dramatically white bark. A purple martin apartment house.

The wind was fierce along the water so I was surprised to spot a red kayak with two brave souls on the river.

After a while the combination of river view, ducks splashing into the water from the air and trees bent with the stiff breeze made me feel like I was far away from home.

That was about the time I spotted a manhole labeled, "City water" and I was reminded how close to home I was.

Walking back put me directly into the wind, a more challenging (and chilly) walk, but satisfying for the view of the arc of the river.

Back where I had parked with a couple of other cars, I took one last walk through the woods before deciding to head back to my kind of civilization.

The kind, fortunately, that took me right past Dixie Donuts on my way to J-Ward.

The line was long, perhaps because they close at 3 on Sundays, and I watched as doughnuts I wanted were snatched up.

One girls asked, "Do you have any French toast doughnuts?" and was told, "Not today."

"Who ate them?" she demanded as the counter girl shrugged.

I wound up getting the last Samoa doughnut, a nod to the Girl Scout cookie, a yellow doughnut with caramel, toasted coconut and chocolate glaze.

It wouldn't have been my fist choice because I prefer chocolate cake doughnuts, but it was a combination of flavors I love, so it worked for me.

You can lead a city girl to water, but you can't keep her there indefinitely.

She'll miss her sidewalks. And doughnuts.