No, this post isn't about any sort of church shopping or denominational hopping on my part, but rather about a walk I have been completing over the past two weeks or so. November brought much cold, heavy rain to these parts; the fields where I normally take my walks have become oceans of thick, sticky mud reminiscent of sepia-toned photos of First World War trenches. A few weeks ago, I made a rather foolish decision and attempted a walk through this landscape. Of course, I would hardly call what I did that day walking - it was more like wresting cold liquid lava.
After that rather harrowing but otherwise humorous experience, I realized my walks in the fields would have to until the deep frost solidifies the earth. I cast about for other routes and decided to try walking along the bicycle path that connects my village to the neighboring town of Fertőd. The path is a relatively recent installation. It is paved and runs parallel with the two lane road leading to the town. I have never thought of walking this route before because I do not care for the sound of passing vehicles when I'm engaged in a constitutional. Granted, the traffic along the road is light, but it annoys me all the same.
Although it took me some time to become adjusted to the hiss of passing vehicles, I found the walk along the bike path a pleasant one. The path cuts across a wide swath of fields and vineyards that expose the vastness of the sky and provide an extensive view of the hills and mountains in the distance. The clouds above have been moving like ice sheets, blotting out everything save for a narrow sliver between their ridge edges and the hills that rise like undulating waves along the visible borders. The sun makes its unseen presence known by filling this space with warm orange hues throughout the day.
The village church is one of the last buildings I pass when I leave my settlement, and as I round the bend in the road, the church in the neighboring town comes into view. It acts as a sort of beacon, this other church. It also marks the turnaround point in my walk when I begin to retrace my steps back to my own village. The second I turn my back on one church, the other comes into view, its steeple becoming a sort of guidepost tugging me forward. I have been enjoying this approximately six kilometer church to church walk so much in the past two weeks that I might incorporate it into my portfolio of routes even after the fields become passable again - sound of passing cars be damned!
After that rather harrowing but otherwise humorous experience, I realized my walks in the fields would have to until the deep frost solidifies the earth. I cast about for other routes and decided to try walking along the bicycle path that connects my village to the neighboring town of Fertőd. The path is a relatively recent installation. It is paved and runs parallel with the two lane road leading to the town. I have never thought of walking this route before because I do not care for the sound of passing vehicles when I'm engaged in a constitutional. Granted, the traffic along the road is light, but it annoys me all the same.
Although it took me some time to become adjusted to the hiss of passing vehicles, I found the walk along the bike path a pleasant one. The path cuts across a wide swath of fields and vineyards that expose the vastness of the sky and provide an extensive view of the hills and mountains in the distance. The clouds above have been moving like ice sheets, blotting out everything save for a narrow sliver between their ridge edges and the hills that rise like undulating waves along the visible borders. The sun makes its unseen presence known by filling this space with warm orange hues throughout the day.
The village church is one of the last buildings I pass when I leave my settlement, and as I round the bend in the road, the church in the neighboring town comes into view. It acts as a sort of beacon, this other church. It also marks the turnaround point in my walk when I begin to retrace my steps back to my own village. The second I turn my back on one church, the other comes into view, its steeple becoming a sort of guidepost tugging me forward. I have been enjoying this approximately six kilometer church to church walk so much in the past two weeks that I might incorporate it into my portfolio of routes even after the fields become passable again - sound of passing cars be damned!
 |  |
RSS Feed
