Yes, you read that title correctly. Not “Lost and Found”, “Walked and Found”. Simple, really. I walk a lot. I find stuff a lot. (I’m known in the family as a Finder, as in, “Mom, where’s my [stuff]?”.) But here I think I really mean that I observe and notice stuff as a habit.

This will be a semi-regular series uniting these two. Most will be illustrated in some manner, so I can show you my findings. Occasionally, my walks will be metaphorical and my findings symbolic. Or something.

Enough preamble!

There’s a section of Schubert Avenue, just where it joins North Southport, that for the past ten days or so has been transformed from a rough stretch of urban street into a cool pastoral tunnel. The maples have been dropping their samaras, or as we called them as children, their helicopters.

Air traffic control has failed this area; the sidewalk is one big green helipad. When the dogs and I first noticed this, I didn’t have the camera with me, so we just scuffed our way through and appreciated the way that felt. A few days later, I took these:

The white paws are Rookie’s and the gray ones belong to Cricket.

As children, we would have perceived this transformed place as a magic one, capable of leading us into Narnia or somewhere equally cool. I was reminded of my elementary school, where we studied the maple samaras in detail, and of my grandmother Trudie, who was a big fan of walking and finding.

But, mostly, it was great fun to just shuffle through them. Like kicking through leaf piles, or being the first to break a path in new snow.