Fort Henry

I really love my morning walks. It's amazing how much energy I get from a few simply laps around the block. So on Saturday I invited my honey to come with me and after a single lap around the block he said "I don't know how you can just go around and around day after day, Let's go this way" And this way we went.
I live 2nd house from the end of my street and at the end of the street there's a little path that leads up to a large groomed field. When you cross said field you are greeted by a road and across from that a really big hill. At the top of that hill is Fort Henry.
Fort Henry is a remnant of Canada before it was really Canada. It was built in 1812 (The Whitehouse Burned Burned Burned and we're the ones that did it) and manned by British soldiers until they were no longer needed and the Canadian Military stepped in. Now it is a museum complete with cannons that go off every day at 12 and 3. Fort Henry also does some sort of dance party most weekends throughout the summer complete with nightly fireworks and people screaming until all hours of the night... but I digress.
So we crossed the field, charged the hill, circled the perimeter, walked the coast line of the lake and climbed what appeared to be this tiny little hill (only that when climbing it I have the feeling like the effort is reaching down deep and releasing smoke gunge from a whole new level in my lungs and it sets the muscles in my ass ablaze in a way that I've never experienced) where upon we come back up on the road that we crossed and return through the groomed field and back onto my street where there is my lovely little Q. It takes the same amount of time to do 1 lap around the block and circle Fort Henry as it does to walk my block three times. Fort Henry has become my new route.
Other than wanting to die on the way up the tiny hill from hell, I love touring this old monolith. It is serene to look out over the lake and see the sailboats and houseboats and even the ferry crossing the water at what appears to be a leisurely pace from the top of this little mountain. It's equally as lovely to breathe in the tranquility of these old stones that have stood sentry for almost two hundred years and feeling safe. And even as I charge through the manicured grasses (ok a brisk walk can be a charge) the birds and beasts hardly move save to let me pass, and I feel one with everything around me.

I am more grateful every day that I quit smoking, if not for that, I'd never have known how wonderful it is to join the morning sun, and share with Him a regular interlude. How blessed am I that this is how I start my day!

On a less spriritual note, it was only 10 degrees out this morning... I'm going to have to start wearing a jacket! Fall is coming.