Up On Hawthorn Hill

Walking unveils a
world of hidden wonders

Two days ago, after visiting a friend in the village, I walked home, a jaunt of about five miles.

I am a walker by nature, but it has been a while since I have taken a walk of any substantial length. Most of our walks around here are two to three miles. That, coupled with working in the gardens and doing chores up here on the hill, usually serves as a worthy, and tiring, supplement to longer walks.

However, that walk a few days ago reminded me of the salutary rewards of a long, leisurely walk, a walk Thoreau so sagely described as a ‘saunter.’

As I started my way up Pink Street, a neighbor stopped briefly to chat. After a bit of neighborly catching up, he observed I had two walking sticks. At that moment I was only using one, saving the other for the uphill climb ahead. I informed him of my wife’s encouraging me to walk with two sticks, believing it might help improve my posture.

He paused for a second, I suspect to gather up his philosophical wits and, with respect to my wife’s concern for my posture, said, “that’s why I don’t have one.”

One of life’s enduring options.

A walk, this walk at least, drew an eclectic array of thoughts and opinions out of that place in the brain where stuff dwells that we are rarely conscious of until, for whatever reason, an invisible gate opens up and we are forced, like it or not, to confront whatever it might be. I spend a lot of time botanizing while on my walks, but this walk blended the botanical with the political and existential.

What does it mean to be free? Too few people understand that there is no such thing as complete freedom. Living in a free society requires the relinquishment of some freedoms to insure that those freedoms most essential to our individual lives are protected. Reading Mill’s “On Liberty” and Peter Singer’s recent essay on the anti-vaccination issue would help. That is, if one reads either with an open mind.

Unfortunately, open minds are rare these days. The partnership that democracy requires asks that individuals, while not relinquishing their basic freedoms, give some thought to the general well-being of others. Wearing a mask does not infringe on anyone’s essential rights. Not wearing a mask, thus jeopardizing another’s life, is an abridgement of another’s right to life, liberty, etc. Besides, one of our most treasured freedoms, the right to speak freely, is not inhibited by a mask.

Guns. I have several. I am not against gun ownership, hunting or recreational shooting. However, why, in a civilized (are we still?) society is there a need for anyone to own assault rifles or any other kind of firearm designed for warfare?

Unfortunately, given the epidemic of gun violence in this country, one cannot help but worry about some sort of apocalyptic showdown. I hope it does not come to that. If I am required to wear a seat belt, insure my car, and obey a host of rules and regulations aimed at the general health and well-being of the community, why not require that gun owners be licensed and undergo safety training? That, coupled with adequate background checks, might go a long way to curb gun-related violence.

Tribalism. Tribes have been with us always. People tend to live with and hang out with people most like them. After living in Vietnam for two years and then mostly hitchhiking my way to Paris over the course of a year, I witnessed discriminatory behavior of all sorts: religious, racial, ethnic, etc. You name it.

While walking, what kept coming back to me was this: tribalism, or some sort of human sorting mechanism, will always be with us; it always has been. I suggest reading Matt Ridley’s “On the Origins of Virtue.” We live individually and as members of families, but we inhabit larger groups with whom we share certain common existential expectations. However, that is no excuse for treating others badly. We have our humanity in common. To treat others inhumanely and deny them the dignity as human beings they deserve is a moral atrocity. And quite selfish.

Condescending, too.

I love white wood asters. There is a nice stand against a maple tree on Pink Street. They temporarily shifted my mood to pleasanter musings. I stopped to identify an unfamiliar tree. It turned out to be a Pagoda dogwood. What a great name. What can be more beautiful than coneflower blue chicory blossoms glistening in the sunlight? Saw a brown thrasher dash across the road 10 feet in front of me. Wish Gabby had been with me. I suspect her walking thoughts might have been shallower.