Awaken too early to make any sense of what is going on, go to the lavatory anyway, and then wash the hairy face. It is too early and not late enough, the son is up but he is too tired to go out. Go back to bed lie down until seven in the morning. Turn of the alarm, get up, put on clothing, a fresh shirt, and remember to take the pills today as the doctor had ordered. The son is not prepared to leave the house yet, he is involved in his teenage dreams and nightmares.
Leave the house and head for the park, as every day. Be overtaken by an over-fit jogger on the hill, well there is nothing to be done about that, know full well that this old body will never be in a state to do that. It is humid, and quite warm. At the top of the hill take the long way around and pick a few leaves for the rhea birds, they seem to enjoy pecking and snapping at them. They are always unhurried in their wanderings, seldom do they run. They just stalk about.
There is a very young girl, barely not a baby anymore, feeding them small bits of grass. The girl's father warns her to mind her fingers, the birds can snap at them, and with such small fingers that would probably hurt.
Walk all around the town today, stop to admire an old house. A woman stops and chats about the house, she explains what a lovely old house it is.
And at home again, after seven kilometres walking in the sun, realise that the shirt is soaking wet around the neck and under the camera bag's strap.
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