Something magical about breezy morning walk insunshine – especially Sunday morning walks when traffic, people-activity distractions too – minimized.
Weekends allow lazy long daytime dog walking (versus weekday early/dark sprints) – sunshine, leaves rustling in a squall, scraggly tree branches stripped bare, naked against winter winds, and thoughts drift to tropical places and warm sweater days, soup days and curled on couch with someone warm days –dreamily fantasizing possibilities as I once did, adolescently with no requirement to figurelogistics, probability or how many chances in hell that snowball might have.
I had a peculiar weekend of thoughts and conversations, meals and a movie (The Accountant is superbly clever – far better than that Jack Reacher flick the week before). And I listened to music, worked, wrote, read, soaked in a hot tub, napped – and stared at the sky.
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