When I lived in Brooklyn, NY, I walked everywhere, but I didn't go for walks. Now that I live in Atlanta, GA, I don't walk anywhere (unless walking through the parking lot to the Publix counts), and I have to learn the art of going for a walk.

I live in Grant Park [1], a historic neighborhood filled with 1920s bungalows and gingerbread-trimmed Victorians in the shadow of Atlanta's skyline. There are plenty of sidewalks, and even a gorgeous park within three blocks of my house. It's the type of neighborhood that inspires a postprandial stroll, particularly if you're heading in the direction of Hank's Ice Cream. So in honor of Walk Talk [1], I gathered up my husband, Chip, and our 5-month-old daughter, Sadie, and went for a walk.

But not just any walk. As I mentioned, I've been trying to adjust my mindset that a walk doesn't have to actually go anywhere. There's not necessarily a destination or a purpose, such as picking up the laundry or getting groceries. To help me, I picked up a copy of the book Atlanta Walks [2], which has 50 walks in the Atlanta area. Luckily, there was one in my neighborhood that conveniently started on our street.

Our walk, courtesy of the book, took us through Grant Park, past Zoo Atlanta [3] and the Cyclorama [4], and past plenty of historic homes, including one that Margaret Mitchell once owned, and the birthplace of Atlanta mayor William Hartsfield, whose name is cursed by airline passengers everywhere.

The best part, though, wasn't following the little map and stopping to read the tidbits of information. It was seeing our neighborhood up close and personal, rather than flashing by the window of my car. It was stopping to admire a rosebush, saying hello to the neighbors as we ambled down the street, and, as the light faded, the vicarious pleasure of peering into people's windows (come on... I know you do it too!).

After all, that's what the art of walking is all about. And if there's ice cream at the end of the journey, then so much the better.

Jessica Harlan [4]

Atlanta, GA