Walking. And walking. And walking.

So, here we are. 1095 consecutive (almost) days on this morning walk at Cove Island Park. Like in a row.

And but for Paul pointing it out yesterday, I would have missed this Large milestone. On May 5th, it was 3 years on this daily walk, I mean 3 years, I don’t even need to count the damn days. It’s been 3 years.

And it’s just like DK, not to ponder how he’s changed, what’s changed, and not to reflect upon all the good that’s come out of this….but to focus on the edges of some nonsense. Paul had to remind me. Can you believe that? I’m forgetting a lot of important sh*t, and don’t even know it.

Every 100 feet or so, my hand reaches for the camera, and then gently sets it back to rest on my shoulder. I’m seeing Nothing worthy. All I see, is Same. Been here. Saw that. Done that. Tired of that. Posted that. 1095 days, on the same track, what do you expect?

I walk.

Stewing. Tired. Dragggggging. Wally’s snoozing. Susan will be asleep for another 2 hours. And here I am traipsing around a worn out track.

Mary Louise Kelly’s Act III: “Act III is the one where it dawns on us that there may not be an infinite number of acts, that we’d best get on with making the most of this one. Which prompts a delightful, nerve-racking question or two: What now? What next?”

I walk.

What’s Next? Maybe remembering important sh*t?

I’m on to the next audible book which continues to pump words in my head – so many damn uninspiring words, I tune out pages at a time, lose my way, grab the phone and back it up to replay. And the same uninspired words pump back into my head again a second time. Frustrated, I turn it off.

I walk.

It’s too quiet. I ask Siri to play Bon Iver’s new album. I can tell after the first 3 or 4 bars that Siri has missed it again. By a wide margin. Susan would say, what more evidence do you need to stop mumbling? She’s nagging and she’s not even here. (I’ll pay for this later.)

Siri plays Zac Brown. Siri should know by now that I’m not Country, Hate Country. But rather than yell at Siri, I let it run. Zac Brown’s Toes:

I got my toes in the water, ass in the sand
Not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand
Life is good today, life is good today

Not sure about the cold beer at 5:30 am, but my ass is dragging (almost sand deep) and the tune is catchy —  I let it run, and the chorus seeps in…Life is good today, life is good….

And then, here it comes…

A flock of cormorants racing across The Cove, hovering feet above the water.
Canada Geese overhead in formation.
A family of oh-so white Egrets fishing along the shore line.
An osprey duet circle overhead.
And above the ospreys,
Pearson’s full moon at daybreak. “The kiss of a shadow. A caress as soft as moonlight.”

And then, it’s as if Someone taps me on the shoulder and says, “I’m going to give you one last big flashing sign, to SEE.”

Minutes pre-sunrise, the sky turns, the water turns, and the color palettes light it all up.

I unstrap my backpack, and set it down on the bench.
I set my camera down.
And set my as* down on the same bench.
The first time in 3 years, I’ve taken a moment to sit on one of the 20+ benches in this park.

And, I sit. And I look out over the horizon.

Mary Louise Kelly from It. Goes. So. Fast:

So much of life depends on what we choose to see…
So much of life—so much—depends on what we choose to see.

Happy 3rd Anniversary DK.

Thank you Cove Island Park.

Notes: DK Photos from this morning’s walk here.