I've been car-less for three months now. Day to day, my life is better without the car, although sometimes, it's a pain.

Every morning, my 8 year old son and I walk to school. It takes us a half an hour to get to school. Then I walk another half an hour to work. At pick-up time, I walk back to his school and then home with him, which means another hour of walking for me. That's two hours of walking. Two hours of being outside. And two very special hours of alone time for me and my kid. And, my dog enjoys all of this, too.

Walking has made me realize what a gorgeous fall we had. How many perfectly beautiful mornings greeted us as we started the day. I thoroughly enjoy these afternoon walks and I love walking home with my son, stopping for a cup of hot chocolate or a bowl of soup at our favourite cafe. A new routine has evolved around our new lives as pedestrians. If it's dumping rain, I always have the option of grabbing a Car Coop car. Well, almost always. (More on that when I get to the parts of being car-less that, to quote, my son, suck.)

He still says he misses the car. "If we had the car, we could be there in about a minute," he often reminds me, as we head out. "We could sit and relax."

"YOU could sit and relax," I say. "I wouldn't be able to look at you while we talk. When you show me a cat in the window, I wouldn't be able to take my eyes off the road. Remember how you used to hate that?"

He shakes his head. "I liked sitting in the back and just relaxing."

"I like the adventures we have walking."

Yes, every day offers another new experience on the pedestrian trail. The colours of the leaves as our feet kick them up, the quirky people we pass, the stores I never noticed from the car, challenges posed by wind and rain and soggy feet. And inevitably, the times I'm late, or exhausted and I STILL have to walk, run, or whatever it takes. The times he doesn't feel his best, or hasn't had enough to eat, or right, when we look out in the morning to see the skies sobbing. And we still have to walk. I pull out my large umbrella and there you go. I often suggest he get a ride from friends, on those mornings, and prepare to make a call.

He shakes his head. .

"I wanna walk, Mom," he says. "C'mon."