Days one, two, and three; The beaches of Normandy

Ed and I walked east from Omaha Beach to the River Orne at Ouistrenham, and now have turned inland. It was a moving experience walking in the footsteps of so many who sacrificed so much. The American cemetery, the memorials, and the scars still visible even 70 years past leave you in awe of that generation. It was for this notion of sacrifice that we chose the beach at Omaha as our start point for Paris.

If a generation comes together recognizing a threat and is willing to sacrifice, great achievements are in its grasp. May the nations of this world and most certainly its people, be willing to do so for our Planet and our future.

Beaches of Normandy

Omaha Beach Memorial

Historic Photos of the Local on D-Day

The Narrow Lanes of Normandy

The Narrow Lanes of Normandy

Royal Canadian Tank at Gold Beach

I crossed the George Washington Bridge just as planned on the 20th of September, 2014. My children awaited on the NYC side. They walked beside me the 7 miles south to Columbus Circle and the connection of footsteps from my original march to the People’s Climate March was completed at 12 noon. Afterwards there was a “short” visit to McSorley’s in the East Village… my favorite time defying locale in New York City.

When I feasted my eye on that Bridge it nearly paralyzed me. After more than 7 million steps I thought I would have some definitive answer to the “Why?” question. I don’t. I feel different today than 7 months ago. I’ve come to prefer the 3 mile per hour life. Perhaps I will find a way to continue this in the weeks, months, and years ahead. I dream of a world that functions to a greater extent by foot and less by engine. I walked from the heart. Sometimes I thought I might soar. Yeah, I felt as if the spirit would lift me right off the pavement. It is a wonderful feeling to forget as much as possible and make long, repetitive strides into the space in front of you .. a space that has no more meaning I can surmise than to move the spirit within.

Here on the edge of New Jersey I feel the fire within diminishing. A quest ends quietly. There will be no explosive, climactic moment. Reflection and memory waft in this space I fill.

On Sunday when I find myself in the Peoples Climate March, there will be no one who walked as many steps to get there. It will make it all the more special for me. Something big is about to transpire on the other side of that bridge. People from many paths are converging to push for Climate action. For the young this will be the movement of their lifetime. It desires to cut deeply into existing social and economic mechanisms and It’s likely to reinvigorate social justice issues within our faith communities. It is not a beginning. It is a maturing. It is a visible sign that the life I knew and accepted has had a negative impact. That life will be challenged and eventually changed. I’ll never be ready, but i’m in.