Friday morning

5:57am Friday morning. I couldn’t go back to bed Friday morning because my phone buzzed repeatedly. Feeling annoyed I quickly dressed and, without much thought otherwise, set out on a walk. It was early, the street was quiet, and I made my way east in the darkness. For a moment I thought I saw a woman across the road. But a brief flicker of headlights proved otherwise. I was as alone outside as I was in my apartment before I left.

Sunday afternoon

12:56pm Sunday afternoon, Palm Desert. The marine layer chilled the air coming off the ocean. A took my jacket from the trunk and put it off then began walking. By the time we crested the hill I was hot, so I took the jacket off and carried it in my hand. My mind thought about past Sunday’s, and what I would rather be doing other than walking at that moment. I concluded there was nothing I would rather be doing, and there was no place I would rather be.

Saturday afternoon

4:53pm Saturday afternoon, Dana Point. Upon arriving in Orange County I stopped to grab my mail from the post office. Then I continued to my wife and daughters house. My daughter was excited to play a new game, my wife was finishing work before she left to run errands. I took the dog for a walk around the complex then returned to eat lunch. When I finished I felt tired, so I laid on the couch and took a nap.

Sunday night

7:47pm Sunday night. The heat emanating from the sidewalk drifted up my legs and sapped my energy. Insects buzzed as the sun relentlessly beat down. Up ahead I noticed a thin, dark strip of shade cast by the southeast corner of a tall building. I changed my course as two neighbors approached me. They were talking excitedly about what I gathered to be events from a previous get together. It must have been sordid. The woman was waving her arms as she spoke. At one point she proclaimed, “No one should put up with that shit.” The man had his head down and mumbled a response I did not hear. Their dog pulled at the lead, greedily sniffing bushes until the woman tugged it back to the path. They nodded hello as they passed. I absently asked, “How are you doing?” But got no reply.

Saturday

6:25am Arizona. On Saturday I woke up late and took a walk through the neighborhood. Dark thin clouds with sun lit edges crowded the eastern sky. Heat from the sidewalk made the air feel wet and thick. I slowed my pace to keep cool. When I returned I made toast and eggs for breakfast then went downstairs to check the post box. There was a law enforcement notice from Washington state addressed to a name I did not recognize. I thought about opening it but decided not to. I put it on a pile of unopened mail and went to take a shower.

Walk

5:50am There was no rain this morning so I went for a walk. I circled the block then cut right into the adjacent neighborhood. Fallen tree limbs from last nights storm cluttered portions of the side walk. Giant bugs with buzzing wings attempted flight to avoid my steps. I became distracted thinking about sports statistics. The tension in my throat eased and for a fifteen minutes I was at peace. It was a good walk.

Morning

7:43am At the top of the hill we turned left. Our path became narrow and uneven with low hanging branches overhead.The dog pulled her lead so I took in the slack. Stillness enveloped us. The only sounds were those I created; keys jangling in my pocket, water sloshing rhythmically in the bottle, the sound of my own breathing. For a moment the sun peeked out from behind the marine layer. The air instantly felt thick. I absently wished for a breeze or another cloud. Luckily both arrived. Then my thoughts turned to work. I decided a job can define limits on time and freedom like bars in a prison cell. That work can appear like an unnecessary construct that robs us of peace. Yet without those limits what would we truly do? It is easy to believe the lack of freedom keeps one from finding peace. But perhaps that is misdirection. The surrender of freedom to a job hides the inability to find peace rather than causes it.

Walking

8:45am After that, I went for walks by myself up the hill behind our old home. The strolls took on a different energy after the move. I was a tourist, not a resident. When I lived there I returned to our apartment after a walk, made breakfast and watched the morning sun shimmer on homes across the way. Now I get in my car and drive away. Who is to say which is best? My ego wants the home with the ocean view. But was I happier? No.

Follow up

3:29pm By the time I got to Palm Desert I realized I couldn’t see my friend and make it to Dana Point in time. I texted her to say I got a late start. She replied, “Hi there. Bummer. See u next time.” When I got to the apartment I found a parking spot on the street. The sun was warm. A cool breeze blew off the ocean. I unpacked and changed then took the dog for a walk down the path that circled the complex. An overweight man nodded as we walked by. Kids on electric scooters raced down the path ahead of us. I felt content in the last remnants of the warm afternoon.

Sunday morning

9:20am you are in the bedroom in Dana point. You woke up this morning and went for a walk with the dog. You got gas and washed the car, bought treats for the dog then coffee with breakfast for everyone. Your daughter is showing you videos she made. She is being so creative. She is proud and happy. That is all you care about in the world.