Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake.
There is nothing like walking to get the feel of a country. A fine landscape is like a piece of music; it must be taken at the right tempo. Even a bicycle goes too fast.
Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time.
My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She’s ninety-three today, and we don’t know where the hell she is.
In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty, lively may I walk. It is finished in beauty.
