The art was not scary. The cute little bear cubs here were the scariest thing I saw in the way of murals and sculptures. The walk was a downtown stroll to admire the public art  in town. It was just a couple of miles.

There were some artful window displays.

And this bizarre crocheted dress.

Mostly murals, like this one that declares that “Fayetteville is my FAVORITE ville.”

And this one on Dickson Street,our answer to Bourbon Street.

That was the scary part. On this historic street, I stepped off the curb into a crosswalk and fell. Just fell. For no reason. I think this has actually happened to me before; I have a vague memory of it and #2 daughter says I told her about it at the time.

I couldn’t stand up, either. Fortunately, there were no cars coming. I spotted back to the curb and sat on said curb for a minute, and then I got up and walked on.

A young man got out of his car and asked if I was all right. I assured him I was and continued on.

I am okay, though I have a scrape on my knee and there was some blood.

But in another way, I am not okay. I am scared.

I have been assuming that, as this poster at the Arts Center says, the show will go on eventually. Have I actually become so week, after six months of spending all my time on the sofa either working or knitting, that I can no longer walk a couple of miles confidently?

It was 80 degrees out. I was wearing sock sneakers I need to review, and I wore them with thick hiking socks, too. Maybe I just got overheated.

But walking the rest of the route was not enjoyable. I felt tired and hot. I have a confident, erect, graceful stride. Even when I was pregnant, I refused to waddle. But this morning I shambled along slowly, not at all sure that I would get back to my car.

I had intended to go to a downtown bakery to buy some sort of special vacation treat, but that did not happen. I was a little bit afraid to drive home.

Now, it is not the case that I have never been tired before. I remember once my husband and I took the kids to the Kansas City Zoo in high summer and when we got to the parking lot, he and I just stood there while the teenagers went and got the car and picked us up. Last year I went on a five mile hike in the woods and got home exhausted. And I did mysteriously fall that time before, while walking to church, I think. I was never scared before.

This is what happens when people get old. At some point, they fall down in their own house. Or they fall and break a leg. Then they are afraid to walk around, and they get more feeble and less able to walk and more likely to fall. Soon they die.

So that was the scary part of the walk.

I was planning to do some hiking as part of my vacation, beginning with this interesting urban walk. Now I might be afraid to going the woods by myself.