By: Stephanie Reynolds
“Would you SLOW DOWN?!” DP said to me with a huff that was as much frustration as it was exertion.
“Look, I don’t have time to wait. Put on some roller skates and hold onto my sleeve, we need to go.” It was a joke between us. At some point in my life, I started walking super-fast and have never slowed down. My dad did the same thing, and I remember more than once when my incredibly genteel, beautifully-but-approachably-elegant mom would almost drop her politesse because he had zoomed away with the shopping cart when she turned around to put something in it.
Fast walking has done me well. I have a strong heart, strong legs, and a strong need to see what’s around the bend. I am high energy and restless, eager to go and do, and experience. I feel like I am trying to cram as many lives into one as I can.
But this past Christmas, I started to realize that while I have gained, I have also lost. In a separate incidence, DP had also more contemplatively remarked that I didn’t know how to stroll. We were walking through the Huntsville Botanical Garden Galaxy of Lights, and I was doing my normal “quick glance, quick steps” without thinking about it at all. Oh, I was seeing the pretty lights, but I wasn’t taking time to savor them, to enjoy them with my family, and I didn’t even realize that. I should have known, though.
I have gotten into the habit of taking DP with me so I can pace out how long a historical or downtown walk will take with real people who actually know how to stroll and meander. I literally use her short steps for timing our tours. In fact, even today I asked if she had time next week to pace out two more tours. Honestly, the whole thing will be a sanctification exercise for both of us—me getting lost in my thought, my feet speeding up to match my ideas, then being interrupted by her tugging on my sleeve to slow me down. Bless her heart.
Suddenly, today I had a flash. To call it a memory would be generous, it was more like an impression, a mere thumbnail of a memory. I vaguely remember being a child on a pleasant day. I think it was fall, but early fall — cool but not brown. I think I remember the sun still with a bit of brightness reflecting off white crushed rock on the path ahead of me. I remember…slow.
As I type this, I try harder, focusing my will to pry open those drawers of long forgotten experiences, all jumbled and wrinkled like a stack of old postcards. I think I remember the scent, and taste, of quartz rock. I think I remember exploring the trail at my feet, not trying to get to the next county over…
Slow…
Another memory, but this is more of an emotion-memory than a sensory one. I remember the feeling of “peace-in-the-moment.” Was it because I was a kid without a care in the world? Oh, no. As a child I had lots of cares and fears and sorrows. But I also knew how to be in the moment, how to let my eyes stay still enough to reflect a blue sky on a bright summer morning. How the scent of warming pines in northwestern mountains were like incense carrying a child’s prayers to Heaven, or how sometimes the
entire work of the universe consisted solely of watching a ladybug for five whole minutes to see what she does.
It isn’t lack of worry that makes one enjoy the moment, it is a decision.
I wonder if I can retrain myself to stroll, to loll, to go slowly enough to hear birds and not just the sound of my boots. To breathe in petrichor. To feel the currents of air bathe my skin instead of me fussing still air into currents by my movement.
I hope I can. I haven’t just missed air and scent and sound. I am sure I have missed butterflies and laughter and jokes. I am sure that time is flying more swiftly because I am pushing it, forcing it with strong quads and a restless spirit.
I have had vocations and avocations that required me to be constantly on the alert, but not now. Right now, I am in tourism in the best county in the world amongst the most fabulous people on the planet. My job is to walk slowly, with you, on paths through forest and history at the pace of a 4-year-old who just saw a shiny bit of quartz.
I think I almost remember how.
It’s going to be a FABULOUS spring! Mark your calendars for all this Limestone County fun!
March 21-22: Singing River Smoke O’ Rama! A nationally sanctioned BBQ contest at the Sheriff’s Arena. Cornhole, craft vendors, family activities, and of course AHHHMAZING BBQ!!
April Saturdays: Free historic walking tours! Just show up at 100 N Beaty at 10 a.m. every Saturday!
May 3: Elkmont Trail Walk! Stay tuned to our Facebook page (facebook.com/exploreathensal)
May 10: Be A Tourist In Your Own Hometown is back again! Check our Facebook page for signup information!
May 17-18: Sheriff’s Rodeo, the Greatest Show On Dirt! limestonesheriffrodeo.com
As always you can reach out to me at stephanie@visitathensal.com
By: Stephanie Reynolds, Athens-Limestone Tourism Association
March 7, 2025
