Over the past week or so, Maryland has been wrapped in another state’s cloak. With clear, blue September skies, low humidity and a crisp breeze, the weather here as been practically Coloradoan or Californian and it’s making me think of apples, corn mazes, sweaters and chili. It’s glorious.
When Maryland is like this, insanity can only be described as sitting inside all day long without even looking out the window… so today I spent my lunch in shorts and a tank top, sneakers and a ponytail. From my building to the bridge and back is a nice three mile stretch of road along the coast, and as I was about a half-mile in I realized how rare it is that I take a walk by myself.
Usually, I plan or wait so I can walk with Sarah. But today was just me, my shadow and my thoughts. With about an hour of alone-time, you would think that I’d have time for an epiphany or two… but instead I found myself involved in a counting game: one bright blue car, two golfers, three sailboats, four five six caterpillars and nine bicyclists.
I thought about being lonely and about enjoying being alone. I listened to the wind rustling the still-green leaves on the trees and watched a bald eagle soar in the space of blue sky between two sets of trees. I spied a giant ship out in the deep water channel of the bay — it looked like a big, blue Lego with a thin white piece secured on top. I imagined that the breaks in the asphalt were infrared satellite images of islands that had never been explored.
Seagulls were sunbathing on golden white beaches, staring idly at the low, granite-blue waves that were trying to hold on to the shore with wet fingers. A black butterfly with turquoise dripping from its wings fluttered past, and when I leaned my head back, the sky was an endless, uninterrupted gradient of blue.