This set the mood:
It was cloudy so not bright even if we walked into the dawn by around 6:30 am. The rains yesterday made everything warm, damp, and humid but since the storm front is still moving over us there were pleasant winds to keep the air from tasting stale.
Keely was slow to start and kind of scattered herself. She actually fell back asleep while trying half-heartedly to wake me up! But we both crawled our way slowly down to Lake Ella and eventually back ‘round to the house.
I cannot get a bead on the ebb and flow patterns of the park, anymore, despite mostly being there at the same time every morning. Some mornings are busy and others are not for no reason I can tell. Maybe it’s days of the week, which I don’t pay much attention to other than “work day” or “weekend.”
I’m out too late to see Good Morning! Guy, if he’s even showing up. The Two Bros arrive after 6:30 am from the direction of Los Robles, and there are two sets of women walking in pairs. Joggers come and go, and Becky is irregular (which might still be due to her foot injury from winter).
There is a soothing sameness to that kind of consistency around me which I think is a primal response. We just like what we know, and like things being what we know regularly. It can be an emotional sink, to be sure, and I am particularly prone to complacency when I should not be. Like now, in the midst of a pandemic and political crisis — although maybe that’s what I need to keep from flying off the handle like I did a few weeks ago.
Meh. I am the contradiction of craving consistency while dreaming about change. Go figure.