After retiring, I’d hoped to do my endless yard work in relative peace and privacy, in my longtime neighborhood, which was largely empty on weekdays when most residents were away at their workplaces, as I had been for so long.
Indeed, that’s how it was for the first couple of years. Then, the pandemic changed everything. Ironically, instead of increased isolation, the reverse occurred. My front sidewalk, once almost deserted on weekdays, increasingly teemed with walkers. The open-space trail in back of my place, which once hosted the occasional jogger or hiker, now saw nearly as many strollers as the front sidewalk did.
The walkers, I assume, were now working at home, and taking outdoor breaks. Daily, they appeared almost in waves. First, the early-morning walkers; then the mid-morning walkers; then lunch-break walkers; then afternoon-break walkers; and finally, the after-work walkers.
In my rapidly upscaling area, the walkers seem to be mainly slim women in fashionable exercise attire. Most walk in pairs or threes, talking loudly. Even single walkers increasingly talk into their phones as they amble along.
And how the walkers walk: some with noses in the air, or with out-thrust chins or chests — or stomachs, in a few male instances. Many affect a wide stride that falls just short of goose-stepping. A local police officer once told me that he too noticed that gait.
“It’s like they’re marching,” he said.
Still more remarkable is the recent plethora of dog walkers, who now nearly outnumber the work-break walkers. Not so long ago, almost no one in my area walked dogs. Doing so would have seemed slightly affected, like copying an East Coast custom depicted in New Yorker cartoons.
What difference does the post-pandemic pedestrian cavalcade — which has lessened slightly, but still persists — make to me? Well, often the walkers’ air of self-importance seems almost palpable. Moreover, yard work isn’t the time for dialogue or close-ups, at least for me. And observation offers little reason for optimism that I could hope to satisfy whatever might be the upscale strutting strollers’ standards of congeniality and casual dress.
I wonder whether other neighborhoods have seen similar walkathon trends, or whether it’s particular to my scenic, sylvan surroundings.
My only hope of a return to pre-pandemic peace and privacy, I suppose, is for employers to implement their long-predicted demands for workers to return to their offices, and for the novelty of dog walking to wear off.
James Holmes is a Larkspur resident. IJ readers are invited to share their stories of love, dating, parenting, marriage, friendship and other experiences for our How It Is column, which runs Tuesdays in the Lifestyles section. All stories must not have been published in part or in its entirety previously. Send your stories of no more than 600 words to lifestyles@marinij.com. Please write How It Is in the subject line. The IJ reserves the right to edit them for publication. Please include your full name, address and a daytime phone number.
