Walking. With Nick…

3:40 a.m. It’s 67° F.  Overcast skies. Sleeping birds. Dew has made its way from somewhere to the front lawn, my footsteps mark the path behind me to the car.

Here it is — the 1,871th consecutive (almost) day on this early morning walk at Cove Island Park. Like in a row.

With 5 1/2 (!) solid hours of sleep in me, I’m near giddy — there’s almost a spring in my step that has me in a near-stable, upright position, stable as in physicality-only that is.

A Siri alert pops up calling for heavy fog, which lifts the spirit further. It’ll keep park traffic down (so great), and add some appropriate tonality to this Federal Holiday, Juneteenth.

There’s usually three or four of us walkers in the early twilight hours, a fisherman or two, and a runner or two. We all keep to ourselves (mostly all), and keep an eye out for each other, and a suspicious eye on all newcomers (aka interlopers, serial killers, marauders, etc.)

One of the Regulars, that we’ll call Nick, is a tall and lean Norm on Cheers. Nick walks laps and more laps each morning @ twilight and will come back mid afternoon and do it all over again. A body that signals a hard life, carrying a heaviness that draws his shoulders toward the earth. The Man is fighting Demons, and keeping one-half step ahead of the next one. He’s Alone. He never mentions family. He’s never seen with a significant other. And even the dogs seem to be wary of Nick, “Don’t need or want to catch That!”

Donal Ryan, “Heart, Be At Peace”: “Those good people, just being decent, carrying their sadness around quietly; that feeling like my ears and eyes were being strained by something in my brain, being pushed out against the edges of themselves.“

Nick’s appearance at the park this Spring has been spotty, his absence a notable vacuum. This week Nick asked if anyone knew anyone heading to Florida that would be willing to share a ride. “Need to go.” No further details provided.

My Nick-memories whir back to January, 2023. Cold has seeped in bone deep. I’m walking the breakwall, with wind gusts blasting off Long Island Sound. There’s Nick, rounding the corner. He’s belting out Van Morrison’s Wavelength:

When I’m down you always comfort me
When I’m lonely you see about me
You are ev’rywhere you’re ‘sposed to be
And I can get your station
When I need rejuvenation
You never let me down-no
You never let me down-no
I heard the voice of America
Callin’ on my wavelength
Tellin’ me to tune in on my radio
I heard the voice of America
Callin’ on my wavelength
Singin’ “Come back, baby
Come back
Come back, baby
Come back”

I stopped to watch Nick having his Moment.

Sartre: I feel something brush against me lightly and I dare not move because I am afraid it will go away…a sort of joy.

A sort of Joy for Nick.

And a wish for Nick to feel it too.

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DK Photo @ 5 a.m. this morning at Cove Island Park. More photos from the foggy morning here.