After a hectic week, I walked through the city last night on my way to dinner at the excellent Bistro Tournesol. I picked up the last present on the list, and a couple that weren't. (Examining my new volume, I wonder why I have never heard of Epictitus? I think his philosophy might suit my temperament well.) The crowds were manageable but I'd had enough. And I have learned that it is best to stop at enough.
This morning I woke craving quiet, snow-muffled fields, space, sky, black trees, solitude, with only the sound of my own heartbeat and crunching footsteps in my ears.
Well, there's no snow, and no fields. But there is a city trail that will give me the space I need, so I am off to recharge.
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