I’ve been walking a fair amount lately, somewhere between thirty and forty miles a week by my estimation. I particularly like doing so early in the morning, setting my alarm for a little before five, which gives me just enough time for a few sips of coffee (decaf—it’s the ritual I crave) and fifteen minutes or so of peace and quiet before heading out the door by half past the hour.
I took a break Sunday morning, instead, sleeping in until just after six and plopping myself down in a lawn chair out back with The Road to Character by David Brooks. After about an hour, the sounds of barking dogs and overworked air conditioners battling the St. Louis heat provided me with the incentive to relocate to a nearby park and find myself a seat in the shade. A good move. The morning sun periodically peeked out from above the scattered layer of clouds, and a cool, gentle breeze blew in from the northwest. And with the exception of the occasional airliner making its descent into Lambert International, the only sounds to be heard were those generated by the various birds and insects inhabiting the surrounding trees and vegetation. Every now and then, a fellow serenity seeker, often accompanied by his or her four-legged friend, would stroll by and offer a “Good morning.” A good morning. Yes, it was.