
A Monday broke sunny and fine in October. Distractions around post-debate night in what must be one of the most absurd political races in modernity. Tried, but not a great day for ‘deep focus’ or productivity.
After emptying garbage and recycle bins (groaning after a forced-indoors rainy weekend), abandon practical pursuits. Walk.
Head north, wend through Gowanus. Court Street to Atlantic. The late afternoon sun begins to wane; the light is changing but still bright. Tack west, shop lights and people.
Think about stopping, then reconsider— more miles are the prescription. The cusp of a fine sunset and I’m so near the harbor. Asides and observations.

A tactical approach: being perhaps of the moment rather than in it, by way of mechanized observation— photography. Adjusting of exposures, of compositions.

It’s still a way of being in the moment; one I find hard to stifle when surrounded by striking views or compositions accessible to my pocket technology (read: not too dark). Mustn’t go to waste. It’s artificial only after a fashion, and the moment in question can be revisited: the eternal Now.
(Again, after a fashion)

Four and a half miles into my walk, pub time. A pint and review the photos. (The walking is meditation; so is this.)

Now it’s dark. A different walk awaits on the trip home. Deep velvet blue with jeweled glow of windows; it’s that time of year.
