Superiority of walking

footsteps of the Furies
2 min readMay 7, 2023

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May 6th, 2023

There is a house there, underneath the mess of intertwined vines. Vines are still dormant, but soon when they are in full bloom there won't be even the slightest indication of an old and partially collapsed house there.

The house is right at the beginning of the street that belongs to the neighborhood where I was born, and where my mom was born and still lives, and other relatives called this neighborhood home as well.

And now, I live here again — after a torturous circle of life that was my lot. And I know my old/new neighborhood well, but this house escaped my attention until my morning walk today.

I drive on this street at least once daily, and ride my bike there several days a week. But since I am a safe driver and responsible bicyclist — I keep my eyes on the road and pay attention only to the traffic around me.

So the sight of the remnants of this house today was a revelation. And a reminder — my mom told me once a while ago that she went to school with two girls who lived there, but they moved away soon after graduation.

That was sixty years ago, and the house stood there — abandoned, alone, slowly crumbling with that passage of time, forgetting that people were born, lived, and died there. Or cried or loved or dreamed there as well.

Maybe their dream was to move away from this house.

How otherwise explain the abandonment? And the decay and rot and collapse that followed? Was there no one who wanted anything to do with this house? Was there some deep tragic secret inside the walls?

If that was so, it will stay a secret now. Soon there will be nothing left except expanding nature that will cover all the remains — as it should be. As is the natural circle of life — nature wins and takes over eventually.

If I hadn't decided on the spur of the moment to take a walk today, I would still be ignorant of this house and its remains. I would keep driving or riding by without registering that it is still there.

And that would be my loss — which I avoided by going for a walk today.

View from the other side

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footsteps of the Furies
footsteps of the Furies

Written by footsteps of the Furies

“for they knew what sort of noise it was; they recognize, by now, the footsteps of the Furies”. Enjoying life on the road to recovery. Observing and writing.

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