The Times

We asked John Kieran, "What do you do for fun?" and this famous writer, scholar, and naturalist said, Walking Suits Me Right Down To The Ground

BY JOHN KIERAN Author of "Footnotes on Nature," "A Natural History of New York City," etc. THE OLDER I GROW the more enjoyment I find in the simple pastime of taking a walk. As to when, where, how far, and for what purpose, it really doesn't matter much. Any walk is better than no walk. The important thing is to get up and go. You might even say that taking a walk is just what the doctor ordered. It's quite possible that this is the only bit of professional advice that has remained unchanged through thirty centuries of medical practice. For my part, almost any kind of walking suits me right down to the ground, whether it's in the city, the suburbs, or the open country. Wherever I may be, I try to put in from two to ten miles or more on foot in the area. I prefer greenery on the side to tall buildings looming above me. Woodland paths and country lanes are easier on the feet than paved streets and concrete sidewalks. Even so, Harry S. Truman seems to enjoy hugely his early morning strolls up Park Avenue when he is in New York, and I have demonstrated time and again to doubting natives that, during business hours at least, you can get from one point to another in midtown Manhattan more easily on foot than by taxi. As a matter of fact, when I visit a city, I like to explore it on foot. You absorb the atmosphere more readily that way, and you see more when you walk than when you ride. As you amble from block to block you can take note of the street names that often are good guides to local history and geography. I have wonderful memories of such exploratory walks along the highways and byways of New Orleans, San Francisco, Chicago, London, Paris, Salzburg, and a hundred other cities here and abroad. If you absolutely insist on a background of greenery for a walk, don't forget that most big cities have fine parks through which you can stroll for hours. However, the real thing always is better than even a reasonable facsimile thereof, and the perfect setting for a bracing, inspiring, and soul-satisfying walk is the open country nearest at hand. The best part of it is that every walk is a new experience. Even if you take the same route over and over again, it is never the same scene that meets the eye. A road winding past hedges and fences and open lawns offers one aspect in the noonday sun and quite a different aspect by moonlight. The ploughed ground of April becomes the field of waving corn in July. An ice storm in February changes the whole landscape in a single night. Nature is a miraculous stage director. Every new day is the next act with some change of scenery. There are as many different kinds of walks as there are walkers. Some persons walk merely for exercise. My wife and I, on our accustomed rounds, often used to meet a brisk walker of that type who looked neither to the right nor left as he strode past us with a determined expression on his thin face. We never discovered who he was, but we found a name for him quickly enough. Because of his almost spectacular arm action, we called him "Elbows McFadden." A much different walker is the man with the problem who is thinking things over as he goes along. He profits by the peace and quiet around him but may be so wrapped in thought that he may put a mile of road behind him without any recollection of the actual covering of that distance on foot. I have done it myself on occasions. There is the office clerk of weekdays who takes a Sun- Continued

Suburbia Today, November 1960