An elliptical machine is a wondrous thing. It allows me to walk in all weathers and at a time that suits my schedule, from 5 a.m. till 8 p.m. What it can’t do, nor would I want it to, is mimic the sights and sounds of the walking world.

I often write of the psychic benefits of walking, which to my mind rival the health effects. I can get a buzz from the elliptical, but it’s not the same as the lift I get from walking outside. Take the random interactions, for example.

First, there was a short walk with Copper, where we ran into neighbor Nancy, who I’d just seen last week at a neighborhood gathering. We exchanged pleasantries as the little guy pulled at his leash.

Later, on my own solo stroll, I saw Nancy again, as well as the couple who are adding a gigantic garage onto their house, and another woman with curly gray hair who’ve I’ve seen walking but had never before linked with her house. This time I saw her checking her mailbox.

I don’t know all these people well; some I just nod to. But they’re the human heart of the walk. Some of them have lived here as long as we have; they give the place character and depth.

So I’m thankful for the elliptical because it’s kept me sane this winter. But I’m thankful for the outside walk, too. It’s what life’s all about.