Serendipity

I woke up yesterday morning feeling like I was stuck in a sit-up. It was like someone had put a belt around my chest and pulled like hell.

The muscles were knotted so hard that my ribs ached and standing up hurt.

My wife heard me gasping in the living room. She came down and rubbed my back and within a few minutes I could take breaths without much stabbing pain. Without much. It was a light stabbing.

She went back to bed. Something inside me told me to walk it off. I went for a walk.

It was 7AM. Gray skies. A light drizzle stuck to the world like water beading on a spider web. I took small steps on the sidewalk. I chose the flat streets. I thought to myself, "This is how I will walk when I am old." I am 35.

I heard the rapid knocks of a woodpecker and the caw of a crow. A few houses down, I stepped over a small pesticide caution sign: the word "pesticide" and the "prohibited" symbol placed over a baby and a dog. I was happy to reach the neighborhood park.

And there was the woodpecker. On the largest tree in the park--an oak--he looked for a good place to peck. For those of you who don't know what this looks like, let me explain. The woodpecker walks on trees the way anyone might walk down the sidewalk. He could be casual, he could be determined, but either way, it's simply one foot in front of the other.

What blows the mind is this: along that tree trunk the woodpecker goes sideways, left, right, up, down--it doesn't matter to the woodpecker. Other birds need branches to perch on. F that, says the woodpecker. I'm going to walk headfirst down the side of this tree. When the trunk leans over, I'm going to keep on walking--Yes, I'm now upside down. Suck it, hairless mammal.

It's a rough neighborhood.

The pain had mostly passed. I waited for the woodpecker to rap his face against the trunk, but he turned around and walked up into the higher branches out of sight. I turned and walked away in a remarkably plain fashion. The pain gone, I headed for home.

It's amazing what the body knows. Was it a yearning for endorphins? Cool air? A light workout to the diaphragm as I walked? Something to better circulate the blood? All I heard was, "take a walk."

This morning, the muscles are clenched again. Pained breathing. A belt around my chest. A light stabbing. Different advice this time: Drink some water.

I should go take another walk. What I really want is the woodpecker, the crow, rain misting onto my sweatshirt.
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