To walk is to know almost nothing
T
he size of the difference between one's inner and outer condition can be best measured when one's out walking.
Seeing things for the first time is very different from seeing things for the sixth or seventh time. Walking through a field on one of the islands of Orkney where you don't live and walking along Fillmore St. in San Francisco where you do live are very different experiences.
Walking through a field on Orkney in the evening toward the North Sea in order to glimpse the sunset may take the exact same number of steps as walking from Bush St. down Fillmore to the Marina, for instance. However, a sheep farmer on Orkney may not see the sunset and the flaneur in San Francisco may well walk right by the coffee bar he otherwise admires like it's not even there.
The walk in San Francisco is as new for an Orcadian as the walk in Orkney is for the San Franciscan. In each case, the condition of seeing something outside of one's self for the first time excites the inner sight and makes a certain scene memorable; in the case where each is walking on their home turf, the inner influences the outer and each are seeing things they've already seen and believe themselves to be knowledgeable about.