Canal Basin Park in Hollidaysburg, Pa. Push, “play”, to experience the halfway around ripples two dogs and I experience while fluffing our way through that park.
To them, Rex and Murphy, it’s another opportunity to sniff out new smells along a stone-ground walkway beside a brown, churned up waterway. For me, the halfway point river is simply that … a 50%, “been there, need to do more” point while walking said puppies. I look forward to the sound. Simple stones underfoot duetting with water nuzzling over rocks in the Beaverdam Branch of the Juniata River.
Halfway is halfway no matter how the walk is sliced up. Pretty sure Rex and Murphy’s math skills aren’t up to par, and time has little meaning, so their time/distance matrix has no relevance to four-pawed progression. Onward is all they care about. Walks are very important as a stress release inside their furry go-about bodies.
I like walking them. It has been a while since canine connections fabulously exited stress from my body as well. Years, actually. Shopan was the last to give me a refreshingly new leash on life. He lived a homophonically great life as a shepherd-collie-rottie mix at my piano feet – representing the masterful Frederic of Poland well.
These two? Kinda musical. Rhythmic paces under one’s white and black woolly paws, and the other’s velvety brown sweepers? Yeah, for sure. Before halfway finds its way into our path, Canal Basin offers us sights to spur our intrigue. Living a few miles away from this park, I never took the time to walk around and read plaques so well placed among the sound filled breezes now appreciated during a pleasant walk with Doug in tow.
These are just two of the markers discovered. A Musical Garden? Holy Orchestral Chimes, Batman! How did I not know of this? The Amphitheatre has been around a while. Thankfully, I’ve attended concerts there. The stage, however, hasn’t experienced notes from my trombone slide, or imperfect piano fingers.
With my human body sleigh being towed , other sites nearly halfway include an original 4-wheeled Cradle and Track set and really big, orange, metally, complicated train pieces put together in such a way I will never understand.
An open soon-to-be loch of imaginary possibilities to our right – with its reservoir of tonal reach-outs past the halfway point – the three of us continued on our way. Two fur pullers and an adaptable tag-along headed toward the Reiser House – the home of a prominent butcher whose house was built at the Canal Basin site decades ago.
We exited across a plank foot bridge, clicking nails did the two scurry as this one silently Skechered. Three-quarters the way, by my estimation. Dogs, still no clue. Their smellers always on alert and pee markers finding every possible target, though.
The halfway sliver of time spent recording pleasing ripples of time meant nothing to them. Just a “paws” during another outing with Doug, the dog walker.
Ok, so I accept that role. I’ll also welcome the opportunity to walk them again, and again. No sense committing to anything halfway.
Unless, of course, halfway means standing beside waters rhythmically dancing over partner rocks. In that case, maybe next time two dogs and a guy will sit down for more than 20 seconds.
Find a halfway in your life. I doubt Rex and Murphy are available, but someone could meet you by the river sometime. Perhaps for more than 20 seconds, if you’d like. Wherever your halfway is, a river of calm is waiting. Don’t push to be 100% all the time. Enjoy the sites along the way.
Halfway is halfway no matter how your life is sliced up. There’s always more path ahead to explore. Go, now.