"Down the hill I hoped that I'd find something I could rest my hands on..."

I've taken to walking whenever I get the chance.

I'll take long loops circling through the neighborhood. Or sometimes I'll go to the edge of the Avenues and walk along the Bonneville Shoreline trails. I walk up to my mom's on 13th, or trek out to see our old house on South Temple. But most days, I'll walk up through Memory Grove and City Creek Canyon. I feel very fortunate to live in the middle of a city, with places like this less than a mile away.

I need to log about three miles a day to feel normal. It has become a luxury I can't live without. This last week I was able to borrow my mom's car, and while it was wonderful not to have to bike through the surprise snowstorm on Wednesday, it drastically decreased my time spent outside. I became a different, lazier creature. No more cars for me.

On these walks, I carry my trusty cd player in a drawstring backpack my dad picked up at a Native American conference. That's something you forget about in the age of iPhones. When your music doesn't fit in a pocket, you need some other accessories to help lug it around. The ancient (13+ years old!) discman lets me listen through albums I've checked out from the library, so I don't mind the extra weight and inconvenience too much. So far, I've walked through Joanna Newsom, Belle and Sebastian, Bjork, and Arcade Fire.
I never get tired.

A favorite in my rotation is Beach House's Devotion. So funny how you can re-visit an album years later, and have a completely different experience. I remember being bored when I heard this album the first time, and now I'm just entranced. This track in particular is magic to me:

Every moment is beautiful if you have the right soundtrack.