I try and go for a walk most days, even if it's just round the village. With a little imagination you can walk a subtly different route each time by using slightly different variations and permutations. I may only walk to the end of the village and back, I may take in some of the surrounding countryside, or I may even walk seven miles to the nearest town if I have a few hours to spare (you can reach it on paths, tracks and quiet lanes without touching a main road.)
The other day I returned home from one such walk and realized with a shock that I could scarcely remember anything about the walk at all. I knew the ground I'd covered, but I'd been on 'automatic pilot' - so deep in thought, so immersed in all the plans, preoccupations and anxieties that plague our minds much of the time - that I'd barely registered any of the things I'd seen or heard (let alone or touched or smelt). Of course my senses were there all the time, working away. I just hadn't tapped into them, so I'd missed out on all the peace and calm, the joy and pleasure they could have instantly brought me.
The next day I resolved to be more present in the 'nowscape' of my walk, to be fully aware of every sense experience, to be mindful of each moment...
(All photos taken on my village walks.)