Walking. 365 days. Like in a row.

~ Live & Learn

Good morning.

I looked back at my blog post on May 5, 2020. Clear skies. 42° F … “Nippy for May” is how I described it.  Didn’t know at the time that I’d be on this sustained journey.  This 365 consecutive day morning walk to Cove Island Park at daybreak. 365 days, like in a row.

I was surprised to see that a year ago, I was monitoring the nesting of yet another Canada Goose. And this year, I’m at it again. Same one? Who knows?  On the drive to the park this morning (and every morning since gestation started), I’m unsettled, uneasy — until I pull up, and verify that everything is as it should be. Life is as it should be. In order. No cruelty. No tragedies. Tracking to nature’s time. Hesse: “But I need to feel beautiful and holy things around me, always…I need it, and I refuse to give it up…That’s my fatal flaw.”

Mother Goose was curled up in her nest. Her mate, was strolling up and down the pier a few yards away.  Beth described me as their Midwife, and that sounds about right.

And despite Daniel’s prognostication that Mother Goose may bless me with the birth of a little one on my Anniversary, it didn’t happen. Not today.  Not yet anyway. I can wait.

And Him (or Her, more likely) way way upstairs, didn’t bless me with a glorious sunrise to honor my Anniversary.  No multi color light show in the sky. No wow shots.  But to be fair, He’s given me far, far more days of majesty than days of overcast, by a wide margin.

The rain, this morning, a super fine mist — somewhere in size between dust motes and very light rain. And it continued for my entire walk. A cool, light, fresh touch.

No one ventured out in the rain this morning. In a city of 130,000, I was alone. My Park. My Time.

It was high tide and water was gushing into the Cove.

The flags flying high above the Cove Island Snack shop (badly in need of paint) rustled gently in the breeze.

Waterfowl were awakening, cormorants were fishing.

A light fog hangs over the water.

And a lightness hangs over me as I’m driving home thinking that it’s time for a morning Break. A sabbatical of sorts.  Sleep in for a day or two, and then consider my next steps.

And then what? Replace it with what?

With what that could possibly be better? 

DK @ Daybreak. 5:08 am, May 5, 2021. 50° F. Light misty rain. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.

47 thoughts on “Walking. 365 days. Like in a row.”

  2. Happy Anniversary to us all! I love the way you often say, “like in a row.” It makes me laugh because isn’t that what days are? Time, walks, rides, shots and sentences of noticing lined up in a row that I may be too close to see until I step back to look. The glorious sunrise is here in the hearts and smiles of all of us who have been blessed to walk, ride, notice and feel with you and because of you. It has been a good journey and I look forward to “our” next anniversary “like in a row.” Cheers!

    >

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  4. Don’t you remember? It all started because of the geese….you had to monitor a different nest in a different location as I recall. This past year you not only saw a full cycle of nesting geese, you found your spirit bird and captured him as well with your camera. You have been more reliable than the mail delivery. Documenting every sunrise every day for the past 365 days. What began for you as a goose chase unfolded into so much more. For you and for us. We’ve just been lucky enough to come along on your amazing journey – thank you!

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  6. Add to all the rest my congratulations, David. But that seems so paltry. You have my esteem because you pulled yourself out of bed and did something daily regardless of weather, weariness or wondering if it was worth it. As I’ve said before, we have vicariously lived through your commitment and viewed your pictures and munched on the quotes and marinated in your musings.
    I like what Lakota suggests- a book!
    Thank you for midwiving us all throughout these months and here’s to (ahem!) another year?!!! 👑

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  7. Reblogged this on It Is What It Is and commented:
    Congratulations!! Quite a feat!! … “I looked back at my blog post on May 5, 2020. Clear skies. 42° F … “Nippy for May” is how I described it. Didn’t know at the time that I’d be on this sustained journey. This 365 consecutive day morning walk to Cove Island Park at daybreak. 365 days, like in a row.”

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  8. Congratulations, David! There’s nothing like hitting the mark to provide the sort of reflections you offer us here. I am reminded of something I read in one of Jung’s books in which he tells the story of a tribe (African maybe, native American?) that incorporated a morning ritual honoring the sun. But the honoring had a participatory quality to it that recognized their ritual as necessary to continuation of the cosmos.

    Perhaps to our modern ears we deny such ideas, but I suspect that emotionally, many of us are right there, in the zone, and able to recognize the participatory quality of life. Perhaps too, this participatory quality allows a cooperative quality, where our emotional immersion into the world provides a necessary sustaining orientation that guides us.

    There’s a beautiful poem by William Stafford that speaks to this idea, titled, With Kit at the Beach, Age 7. I’ll post it here if I can find it online.
    Thanks for sharing your journey here. It’s beautiful and touching!

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    1. So thoughtful Debra. Loved this: Perhaps too, this participatory quality allows a cooperative quality, where our emotional immersion into the world provides a necessary sustaining orientation that guides us. Yes!

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  9. With Kit, Age 7, At The Beach

    We would climb the highest dune,
    from there to gaze and come down:

    the ocean was performing;
    we contributed our climb.

    Waves leapfrogged and came
    straight out of the storm.
    What should our gaze mean?
    Kit waited for me to decide.

    Standing on such a hill,
    what would you tell your child?
    That was an absolute vista.

    Those waves raced far, and cold.
    ‘How far could you swim, Daddy,
    in such a storm?’
    ‘As far as was needed,’ I said,
    and as I talked, I swam

    William Stafford

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  10. Dearest 365 dayer Dave.
    Well done. 365 days. like in a row. Wow!

    But… I’m curious… what if it isn’t about ‘what comes next’ or even the number of consecutive days. What if it’s all about the journey and… as Rilke suggests… learning to love the questions until one day you live into an answer that fits you, heart and soul?
    What if… there is no definitive answer to ‘what comes next’ unless you keep walking with the unknown of simply letting the next unfold just as your steps unfolded every single day, “like in a row”.

    “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” Maria Rainer Rilke

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    1. Again. Louise again drops such amazing thoughts. You are Something Louise. Thank you! This will stick: Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer

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  11. congrats on the one-year anniversary – quite an accomplishment. I would find it hard to stop such a streak. And I don’t know what I’d like better – a spectacular sunrise with several people around, or a light drizzle with the place to myself…

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  13. Dave,

    Day 365—Congratulations on 365 Days–Like in a sense of Purpose.

    This is a day that I and many of your friends, readers, and global followers have been anticipating and rooting for these past months. Your Morning Journey, made by you alone, has been anything but a Journey of solitude. Through viewing your pictures and reading the narrative, in certain ways, we have all been accompanying you on this Journey, during this time of pandemic isolation and chaos.

    Your pictures and words greeted us every morning, and became a part of our lives and routine; your followers looked forward to them as one does the first cup of coffee, or reading the morning newspaper.

    Through the year, your daily actions which started as a way to deal with a pandemic lack of commute (at least to me), was an obsession, became a ritual, and then an enjoyment contributing to a sense of Purpose. Purpose being documenting the many perspectives of our tumultuous year, and seeing the beauty in simple things, while enabling growth in others, and valuing self-worth through the process. This Journey took on an identity all its own; this Purpose revealed itself to others during the year, and spurred much introspection in all, along with many conversations on social media.

    The details of Purpose evolved as did the daily perspective of views into your personality, through the imagery, the carrying of equipment, layers of clothes, breathtaking pictures, biting cold weather, and the noticing of simple benches, birds, and people. Many are ready to help market this imagery and Journey as a book.

    Thanks for doing this, for you, and importantly for all of us! We continue to be energized by your accomplishment and what it signifies. Today, especially, I think about the next year, further walks or efforts, and how this Purpose will continue to inspire others in so many other different ways that you cannot yet imagine, but continue to hope for! Whatever form your walks or future Journeys take, I am thankful to you for taking us along for the ride!

    Best to you and the Family!

    Steve

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    1. Wow Steve. I’m speechless. Thank you Friend. I’m printing this Comment of the Day (year?) and keeping it close. Thank you. Hope you and family are doing well.

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      1. Across the miles and the years, your manner, disciplines, and insights continue to influence and teach! I’m glad to have let all your followers know this!

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  14. By a wide margin, yes.

    I think of you saying ‘what could be better?’ We have always lived in the most extraordinarily beautiful places. And yet we really have to work at not becoming so accustomed to them that we don’t appreciate what we have. Is this the human condition? Or just the condition of spoiled Americans? I don’t have the answer. Perhaps you do.

    Beautiful as always. 🙏🍃🌏

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  18. How in the hell did this post slip past me?! I was just going through my box and saw that I had missed this. Not OK. So sorry I wasn’t able to celebrate on your special day pal, but like so many others, have enjoyed the journey immensely…..

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  19. Like Lori, I’m wondering how the hell I missed this one. And just like Lori, it was during a clearing out of the inbox (at work where I should be working instead of well, you get the picture)
    I love that you have done this fabulous project and that you then made a beautiful video – that next time will have sound – and that you are in no rush to quit your newfound love of photography and sharing what you capture.
    I hope your “old” body will allow you to do longer walks again 😉

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