Concrete, tarmac, grass, mud, pebbles and sand. I cross countless surfaces on an average dog walk but I barely paying attention. My gaze is ten steps ahead. Unless a slip or trip jolts my awareness to my next footfall, I step from texture to texture largely unaware of the ground beneath my feet.
I trust the earth to rise up and meet my descending sole. Its reliability is rarely shaken.
The injunction to "watch your step" is typically a warning, not an invitation to wonder. But this week, in a quiet spot where you can stand or move slowly, look down. Notice the ground that supports you. Let your soul descend to greet the ever-present earth.
Today I'm walking on freshly mown grass for the first time this year, and the scent is amazing.