A NON FICTION Selection On Writing. Today, I was unsettled. I walked to clear my head and focus on a new story idea. I didn’t know it was a “walking meditation” until my aunt arrived at my side. I could have been traipsing down the grassy path to the pond of my youth, or the woodsy trail to the Big Rocks, at the creek, near the cemetery. But today, she and I walked on my new island path. The last time I saw my Aunt, was in Spring 2006 before she died. She posed for me on an old brick...