Estevan is a small city of people who love their vehicles, be they cars, SUVs or trucks, and most definitely trucks.
Sure, the Energy City isn't the most walkable for a variety of reasons, but driving within the city is still wildly out of control, a pastime as much as it is a convenience. It's excusable throughout the winter but with the pleasant spring air surrounding us, pushing us out the door and encouraging forays out into the natural world, the excuses run thin.
The sidewalks are intermittent and uneven and the dust is suffocating, but there are still some great things you can see when walking around the city, breathing in real air instead of a vehicle's AC. There are experiences to be had that are impossible from within the remote confines of your vehicle.
These aren't necessarily magical experiences, like a Disney princess's twirling jaunt through the forest chatting with the lively creatures, but it's still something. When driving, you're just a spectator to the community, but on a walk, we're all active players.
How many people have stopped to read the plaque by the courthouse outlining the little bit of history in Estevan that saw striking coal miners killed? Many new people to the city will have no idea those events even occurred 80 years ago. Many residential stalwarts will be aware of the strike, maybe even well versed in its significance to the country's labour laws, but have they stopped to investigate the plaque and read the names of those who were killed? The only way to do it is to stroll down to the corner of Fourth Street and Souris Avenue.
I'll bet most people haven't read it or haven't noticed it. I encourage you to go read it sometime. It's only a 30-second stop on your way to wherever it is you need to be. It won't throw your life or your day out of whack.
Has anybody gone for a walk and stopped to admire the quartet, jamming out at the top of the hill between the Comp and Spruce Ridge? Have you walked along Valley Street and enjoyed the views below of the prairie stretching wide? The portrait is a little obscured by the coal-powered station looming large, but it's still a nice place to exercise our gaits above the Souris Valley that has given its name to so many organizations in the area. Maybe stop to pay a little attention to the Estevan Collegiate Institute's plaque and see what that's all about.
If you walk around town for a half hour, it's not uncommon to meet no other pedestrians, but every now and then you do and you get to say "hello" or "good day" or "how 'bout that weather? Somethin', eh?" It would be nice to see more people taking strides along the various streets and avenues, getting trucks off the road and lessening the dust that's kicked up by the ferociously spinning tires.
It's easy to ignore the small but special things around your city when you're only ever moving around at 50 km/h in a noisy box. It's easy to ignore all the history in the city because it's history and it's not going anywhere. There will always be time to check it out later, but there's always a reason to go later, to push it back to another day and another time.
When we slow things down, not to a snail's pace but just to a brisk walk, we can see so many more things in our communities. We can more completely experience our neighbourhoods. Our lives are spinning fast enough. Sometimes it's a great relief to slow things down, to get some fresh air and to just walk around.
