This morning when I headed out on my morning walk, I had the sidewalk all to myself all the way down to the high school and then as I was heading over toward the lake, I saw movement off to my side. It was a young female jogger passing me, her ponytail swaying with her movement. Well, okay, I can remember back those decades and jogging at Wright-Patterson AFB on base housing. We were all young in that neighborhood and I remember pushing, pushing, pushing and gasping at the finish on Apricot Court in front of a duplex designed to reflect a Tudor influence.

I didn’t think too much about it – the time passing, that is. I concentrated on the upward grade and then the jog (figure of speech) over to Park Avenue.

Then I looked ahead and saw two people coming my way, a woman and a older gentleman . . . with a walker.  I wondered if  he was remembering when he had a steady stride. We passed and I smiled and I think he did too.

And then I saw a young, redheaded postman headed toward me . . . and he just scowled all the time.  Maybe he saw my ipod earphones and thought computer and email and postal cutbacks.

Not long after I reached the house, sweaty, but invigorated and made myself some lemonade.  I can’t think of a finalizing little thought on the experience with which to end . . . and so I guess this is all she wrote.