Learning How To Walk (And what shoes to wear!) A memoir: dealing with the daily uncomforts of footwear...and growing up. College Paper written - Daughter - May 2007 - TENNIS SHOES "Once in a while I'll get moved to do some exercise. It's something I long for but the biggest problem is bending down and putting my tennis shoes on. Once I go out I'm OK." - David Soul I wake up and roll over on top of the eggshell blue comforter of my family's Florida beach cottage to the smell of Seagrove Beach, Florida. It was even better than waking up to the scent of Butter Rum coffee that had become a rare occurrence since I'd left for college. The morning light seeped through the white linen blinds of the large windows, letting me know it was 8am and the day was ready to begin with or without me. When I'm in Florida, I don't mind getting up early. I don't dread my alarm clock and pull my bright pink down comforter back over my head, praying that my professor will cancel class or begin to count down the days until the weekend. In Florida, I don't in a sense, wish my life away or attempt to fast forward it to the point where I don't live in Greencastle, Indiana. Sure, I have fun here, but I feel I don't have those moments, those little seconds where you can find beauty in everyday life, that I have experienced in other places. Studying abroad in Italy, I found it in the pure taste of mango gelato. In New York City one summer, I found it in having authentic Japanese sushi and green tea made with imported pistachio colored powder with my roommate from Tokyo. On vacation in Paris, I found it when standing in front of my favorite Cezanne painting titled "Peonies" for the second time (I'd seen it once before at the MoMa). In Greencastle, I can't even have an authentic Starbucks Nonfat Vanilla Latte. No, you have to drive forty-five minutes to Indianapolis to get one of those. Our beach house is another place of unpredictability and thus, makes each day easy to wake up to. On that morning, I decide to take a walk. I wasn't exactly sure where I wanted to walk to, but one of my most favorite places close to our cottage on the Florida Panhandle is the New Urbanist community of Rosemary Beach. Rosemary Beach was established in 1995 and is about six miles down the road, well worth each trip. Inspired by beachfront houses in the Caribbean, the seaside community is quaint, charming and architecturally stimulating, painted in cool subdued colors and rich chocolate browns... There is a Zen like quality to Rosemary Beach. It's one of those "nothing bad could ever happen here" type of place, that makes you feel at peace and secure the moment you step within its boundaries. Yes, the perfect way for an anxiety-laden person like myself is to spend my morning in Rosemary Beach. Would I sit outside of Wild Olives market and have a warm almond croissant and extra dry cappuccino? Would I grab a book at the Trading Company and read outside under the palm trees? Or, how about spending time at the cottage like spa for some aromatherapy and rich Rosemary Mint lotion? I thought about these things as I quickly walked along the sidewalk towards the small community and pass the perfect green lawns and lush landscaping. I have on my pink Nike Shox and at some points I speed up into a jog. I don't want to get hot and sweaty, but I can't seem to contain my energy. Along the way, after every few blocks of beach houses, I find the desire and motivation to break into a run or speed up my pace. Even the air feels so much cleaner than that of Indiana. Here, I can taste the sea salt and feel it on my arms after hours of biking or long days on the beach. Seeing a concrete oceanfront mansion titled "The Bird of Paradise" in the distance, I know I am almost there. As I continue to walk, I imagine the fresh ocean air blowing from the Gulf of Mexico to shore, undisturbed and untouched. I breathe in as much as this air as I can take in, completely fill up my lungs to the point of uncomfort and hold it there for just a few seconds before I exhale and begin to walk again. I begin to see the brown gates and the perfect courtyards of Rosemary Beach in the distance. Had I traveled six miles already? It seems painful to walk just a half of a mile to class sometimes. Seeing the rustic central courtyard fountain of the shops, I knew I had arrived nearly famished and sun kissed in my workout gear. I decide on sweet iced tea and a Greek salad from the Summer Kitchen. It sounds fitting to get a taste of summer in February. There are vacationers dressed in their swimwear and beach cover ups, locals who look like they have not seen the sun in days, and professionals in tie-less suits lunching on the small tables outside the little cozy restaurant that looks like a sea weathered beach hut. I pick a small table outside that had a nice view of all the "action." Kids play Frisbee around the central fountain in the large courtyard, two elderly couples walk their matching dogs on the green, and a mother pushes her toddler in a stroller while window-shopping along the red brick sidewalk. Anyone who meets my gaze smiles or gives a friendly nod, many even said hello. Their natural southern charm simply adds to the perfection of life in Rosemary Beach. Some may think Pleasantville would be boring. I think it is fantastic. I hate traffic. I hate pollution and get annoyed by bad manners. To walk to the Post Office to pick up the mail, grab a carton of fresh orange juice on the way home, and all the while having a freshly baked baguette tucked under my arm, would be my personal utopia. I think Europeans truly know how to live in this sense. They enjoy the ride and not just the destination, and that is where we are failing. In a sense, these New Urbanist communities are tiny European villages. They aren't really new, they are the treasured old made new again, just with more efficiency, convenience, and pre-planning. There are specific paths we usually need to take to get us somewhere on time in a car. But, with walking, it's not really a matter of time it's a matter of where you need to go. Thus, as long as you get there, you can take any path you choose. And, maybe the secret is to start enjoying the path and not simply the objective. I would choose fresh air over a sweet tea any day.
