This morning I had to get up rather early and I was obviously not pleased with the situation since I went to bed long after midnight. But a stroll in the park reminded me how fascinatingly beautiful spring mornings are. I came to the conclusion that I am haunted by some images that are created either by my memories or by my imagination and every time I run into them in real life I get lost in a reverie.
First of all, I noticed I should’ve worn another layer under my jacket, because it is still chilly in April. A sweater like this maybe:
I was the only man walking in the park at that time and it felt so good to be lonely in the nature, trees covered in fog, smelling the freshly cut grass, feeling the mist on my face.
At one point though, I saw a silhouette far away: the night watch was taking a piss in the back of his watch box and he only noticed me when I got closer and he was done urinating. He said:
“Mornin’ boss, do you have a cigarette?”
And I replied promptly:
“Good morning. No. I don’t smoke.”
And I kept on walking, surprisingly untroubled by this intrusive appearance.
Some neighbors were definitely preparing breakfast because on my way home I felt the smell of toast, of omelette and of coffee and I imagined a family with two children who were getting ready for school, the father sipping his coffee while buttoning his shirt, the mother making sandwiches and carefully putting them in a lunch box for her kids.
And then finally I got back home. Even though my solo promenade was mentally rejuvenating I was exhausted so all I wanted was to get back in bed. When I did so, the sheets were cold and it took me a few minutes until my body warmed up the bed and I fell asleep comfortably, thinking of what I’ve seen earlier.
And I had this Fleetwood Mac song stuck in my head.
What a good Monday morning!
