In Louisville, we have E.P. “Tom” Sawyer Park, a huge park in the eastern part of the county. We also have this park, named after a civic leader and dairy executive. Two big parks named after two different Sawyers? Was Louisville formerly run by some sort of Sawyer mafia? How many Sawyers could be here? It’s not like the Smith or Jones families. Really? Sawyer? Anyway, I had never visited this park, even though, like Breslin Park (Walk 5), I drive by it frequently.
The park contains some green space, sure, but it has a number of other uses too. It has baseball fields and other sporting courts, a recycling center and what appeared to be a woodchipping center. A curious mishmash.
I wore a new pair of waterproof high-top boots. The guy who sold them to me said they should last about 700 miles. Throughout this walk, I kept thinking “I want to wear out these boots soon.” I didn’t mean rush my walks or walk fast. I felt as though these walks were becoming an integral part of me, so I would take even more walks in nature. The wearing out of boots would happen, well, naturally.
I loved this walk. In the green areas, the park doesn’t include many concrete or asphalt paths, so I walked on the grass. I felt delighted. Nature abounded here. Huge trees, color-pop flowers, every shade of green.
After my walk, I sat at a table for a call with a friend. We intended to speak via Zoom. My hotspot didn’t provide a strong connection so we turned off video and relied on our voices. It felt marvelous. Yes, a picture is worth 1,000 words. Video shares so much content and color and dynamism with us. And yet…and yet…the human voice remains a potent portal of unmistakably human connection.