They call her 'the walking lady', although I'm not too sure how she feels about that. It seems a good name as any for someone of this legendary stature. And as you might have guessed, she fits her description rather well. She is a lady, and she walks. Allot. In fact, that seems to be all anyone has ever seen her do. She just walks. Where to? Not sure. Why? Who knows. But speculations fly as to her origins and reasons. My brother once told me that his friends followed her to a large home one night. Not a run-down shack, paint peeling, windows cracked, and grass long dead...but a very nice home, which usually implies money. I am tempted to invalidate my brother's story since he once convinced me that the neighbors who lived across the street from us, but who we never saw, were in fact drug dealers who had a secret underground labyrinth so they could come and go as they please. But this story sounds a little more reasonable. My mom once walked by her and offered a friendly 'hello' to start a conversation, but the walking lady just strolled on by mumbling to herself as she always does. She seems to never change. Her longer than shoulder length gray and white hair is always matted and near dreadlocks. Her colorful blouse and flowing skirt the only clothes she ever wears. Her weathered and wrinkled skin, always the same deep color of brown, hides her true age. And she walks on. Day in, day out, and in any kind of weather. And if you ask anyone who lives around here if they have heard of the walking lady, a spark of recognition will leap to their eye.