I found them on a table in the Visitor’s center where their weary owner was resting his bones after walking about 1000 miles in Forest Park* (didn’t realize it was that big a place, did you).  On today’s walk he meditated on leaves, sycamore trees, rain, light, gumdrops, rain, water, potholes, rain, shoes, grasses, puddles, pavement, rain and childhood experiences with Difficult People. He is, therefore he thinks.

300 days marks a milestone, I guess. I was busy most of the day cleaning up my studio, designing a wedding proof album (got it sent off to be printed, too), organizing photos, taking care of bills and doing routine maintenance on my photo equipment (I had a wedding this past Saturday and all my batteries need to be recharged). All the time I was working on these things I was hoping the rain would quit. I was ready for the rain to quit. I was praying the rain would quit. The rain did not quit.

So there it was, almost 4pm and I hadn’t gotten myself over to America’s best urban park. How could I possibly exceed the quotidian if I never set foot out the door? And this was clearly a job I could not put off until tomorrow (as I have been sometimes known to do). Sigh. I lugged myself into the driver’s seat of my powerful luxury automobile (1986 vintage) and set my course for North by Northeast. The birds are out no matter the weather, but people were few and far between. I was the only one loitering near the Grand Basin, and when I wandered the Probstein golf course, I had the place to myself. A few people were there at the Visitor’s Center when I came by but not very many.  It was a dark and dismal afternoon... but it was a relaxing and quiet walk.

*This is day 300, and I’ve been walking between 3 and 5 miles each day.