On the curved lower path of the park, near the ever turning water wheel, I met a most intriguing man.

He had passed me earlier, his stride and enthusiasm outpacing mine.

We now were face to face and I smiled and said "Hello".

He gave me back the widest smile imaginable, threw his arms wide and said, "Do you feel it?"

I took a breath, held my smile and said, "I'm not sure".  I felt it was important to not give the wrong answer.

He spun around slowly, arms wide, head back and said "Life, the trees, the sun, the earth, don't you feel it?"

Now my smile widened and I said, "Yes, I do."

"It is the morning light." he explained; "The morning light signifies life and vitality.  If you begin your day with the morning sun the rest of your day will be filled with peace."

I nodded in agreement and this encouraged him to continue.

"In my culture it is important to begin your day walking barefoot on the earth." He pointed to the ground and continued with "Here, you cannot do that, there are too many ways to damage your feet."

He was Chinese and has been in this country for almost twenty years.  I was thinking he was around 35.  He was extremely fit looking; relatively tall and slender.  His close cropped hair was jet black save for a few strands of white.

Just then a big eyed chipmunk scurried past.  He studied it as it passed and then spoke again.

"I'm a vegan.  I look at that chipmunk and see its two eyes and know it has a soul."

I continued to look at him, silently waiting for him to continue.

"When I was a young man I ate meat.  I ate sugar and drank soda but I paid a price."  His smile faltered a bit and I could tell he was having a private moment so did not ask him about the price he paid.  Instead I said, "You said 'when I was a young man'....how old are you?  You look like a young man now."

He laughed and said, "You guess".

Well, I already thought he was around 35 and when people ask me to guess their age I always subtract a few years out of politeness so I said "Around 30".

He smiled proudly and said "I am almost 60."

I truly was stunned.  It wasn't just the lack of lines or sags in his face, it was his whole manner, his whole way of being that led me to think of him as young.  He had that freedom of movement, the natural physical grace of the young.

"I'm shocked." I replied.  "Trust me, I believe you but it is hard to accept, you just don't look it."

He spoke earnestly for the next 10 minutes.  I cannot remember his exact words but to sum it up; this man meditates every morning after he walks in the morning light.  He also walks in the evening light but never in the midday sun.  He said something about the midday sun draining energy.  He drinks a lot of pure water and has been a vegan since 1994.

"When I first stopped eating meat I felt as though I was constantly hungry.  It took me almost a year for my body to adjust.  Now if I try to eat meat my body rebels; it wont accept the meat."  As he told me this he touched his gathered fingers to his mouth and shook his head from side to side.

"You must give up meat, sugar, dairy and start meditating every day."  He said this with such earnestness and sincerity I found myself shaking my head "yes".

We parted ways, he left with a happy step and jaunty air and I left with deep thoughts and questions.

I have always been a solitary walker.  I like being with my own thoughts and being able to set my own pace.

Most of the walkers at the park walk in pairs.  I see them chatting as they saunter and it makes me smile to see that but I have never been envious of it.

Today as I rounded the walkway near the waterfall and duck pond another lone walker began to pass me.  She stopped and looked back at me and then smiled and said, "I haven't seen the blue heron yet."

A few days ago I had told her about "big blue" and told her to watch for him.

I stopped to talk to her for a few minutes.

"I haven't seen him in a few days." I replied.  "Maybe he has changed his eating schedule."

She grinned and rested her hand on her stomach.  "I've changed my eating schedule." She said with a laugh.

She went on to tell me that she has lost 25 pounds in two months.  

That got my attention.

"Now, don't get me wrong." She said with a "stop in the name of love" hand gesture.  "I still eat my candy."  She had a look in her eyes that made me want to promise I would never stand between her and her candy.

She continued with, "My husband loves a chubby woman so he brings me candy and Munchos all the time."  She got a far away look in her eyes as she said, "I do love my Munchos......"

She told me she began walking two months ago.  Every two weeks she increased the amount of time she walks.  She is now up to one hour a day and plans to begin jogging soon.

Her main concern is her health.  She has a 23 year old, an 18 year old and now a 6 year old.  

She is unable to keep up with her 6 year old.  

"With the 25 pounds I have lost I can now kick the soccer ball with my little boy and soon I will try to ride a bike with him."  Her eyes shone with happy tears.  "Why don't you start walking with me?" she asked.

I immediately thought of all the reasons I would not want to walk with her, or anyone.  But then I thought of our mutual love of the park, the fact that we both have children we love and weight to lose and health to gain and realized friendships have been forged on less.

"I'll see you tomorrow." I said with a smile.

She went her way and I went mine.  At the top of the stone stairs I took a right and continued on my way to the fountain.  I always sit on a particular bench to watch and listen to the water for a bit.

As I sat down I noticed a bouquet of sunflowers.  Five sunflowers bound with twine, with morning dew glistening on the golden petals.  

They were lovely.

I looked around wondering who left them.  There was not a soul in sight.  I picked them up and could see the stems were healed over so they had not been recently cut.

My mind drifted to the day before when I was cleaning my bedroom.  I had picked up my royal blue pitcher with the intricate white design as I dusted my bureau top.  When my older brother died his biggest customer had sent me this vase filled with sunflowers.  It was beautiful.  I set the pitcher down and told myself I should get some sunflowers soon.

And here they were.

I looked around again.  The park was empty.

In Chinese symbolism, sunflowers mean long life and good luck.  Their color signifies vitality,  intelligence and happiness.  

I whispered a "thank you" to the universe and claimed them as mine.

"Sometimes I sits and thinks and sometimes I just sits."

I don't know how many time I heard my father say that.  As a teenager that quote would send me into an instant eye roll and shake of my head.

Now I have an appreciation for that sentiment.

7:15 a.m., at the park, sitting on a bench that overlooks the duck pond.  I left my camera home.  I didn't want the ever vigilant state that comes with carrying a camera.

The swimming hole scent of my childhood rolling off the water and the quiet rustle of the leaves lulled me into a quiet reverie.

Around 20 ducks bobbed on the water's surface and "spoke" back and forth with their "acking" sound.  Why, I wondered, do we attribute a "quack" to a duck?  I have never in my life heard a duck say "quack".

One duck circled near me, looked directly at me, tilted his head and as clear as a bell said "quack, quack".  This duck excels at enunciation.

I continued to just sit and let the world ebb and flow around me.  I tried to keep it that way but the mind, being what it is, kept formulating thoughts.

In a way I feel like a kid who has played hooky.  There is that absolute delight when the bus pulls away from you and you spend the next couple of hours celebrating your freedom but as time passes you start to worry and feel guilty.  By mid-day you are kicking yourself for skipping school.

Does every newly retired person feel this?

I am loving my freedom.  I can fill my time easily.  But there is a part of me that is struggling with wanting to get back on the bus.

Sunday morning, 7 a.m. and I was at the park.

This was the first morning the temperature had dipped below 60.  It was 56 and I was loving it.

There is something so comforting in putting on the first sweater of the season.

I had a plan; I was going to get an action shot of the blue heron I had been introduced to the other day.

I rounded the corner and stepped onto the boardwalk that rings one of the duck ponds.  I had been told the blue heron was there every morning.

I readied my camera, focusing it so I would be able to snap a quick photo of the far side of the pond.  I hoped to snap a photo of "Big Blue" feeding.

I walked about 50 feet in and stood, using the zoom on my camera to scan the far side of the pond.  I scanned to the left, then to the right; no heron.  I looked one more time but had to accept he was not yet there.

I capped my lens and turned the camera off and began walking quickly across the planks to reach a waterfall I particularly like.

Suddenly, an explosion of blue and grey and a sound of wings against water drew me to the edge of the walkway.  Big Blue was right under where I stood.  I fumbled with my camera trying to turn it back on and remove the lens cap as he rose above me and did a majestic half turn before he settled onto the boulders on the far side of pond.

By the time I was ready for the shot he had settled in regal manner and calmly preened his feathers.

Lack of preparation had robbed me of my opportunity.

Leaning against the railing, like the photographer of the other day, I watched and waited, willing him to take flight again.

He wasn't going anywhere so I took a couple of still shots and went on my way.

Not a single encounter with another person and for today that was just perfect!

This is my fourth day of retirement.

I started the day the same way I started the previous three; with a walk in the park.  It was early,  7:00 a.m. and the park had just opened.  The sun was skirting over the tops of the towering pines casting the most gorgeous morning shadows of deep blue and purple.  This park is decorated with hundreds of rose bushes and their sweet fragrance drifted through the air.  I knew that within a couple of hours the sun would burn the scent away; I was thankful I was there early enough to enjoy it.

In the center of the park there is a stone fountain with a joyful towering spray.  This morning there was a man standing knee deep within the fountain which was disappointingly silent. The water around his legs was filled with swirling bubbles.  He had a tool in one hand and some apparatus in the other.

"What are you doing?" I asked.  (I have lately learned that people love answering this question)

The park worker, who was, as my father would have said, "built like a brick shit house" gave me a somewhat glaring look as he continued with his task.

He finally said "I'm cleaning out the nozzles."

"Oh" I said with a smile.  "Why are your doing that?"

He looked up from his task, saw that I was smiling and giving him my most friendly look and decided to give me a quick lesson in dirt clogged nozzles, water pressure and the resulting water display.

When he finished I nodded and said, "That fountain piece you are working on looks like a trident."

As he stood there with his feet apart, "trident" in hand and swirling bubbly water around his knees I saw him give me a begrudging smile and I think I caught a twinkle in his eye.

"You see these bubbles? He asked.

"I sure do." I said with a nod.

"It is an algaecide, not a bubble bath and I don't want to catch you in here later taking a bubble bath." He gave me a grin as he went back to work.

I laughed as I walked away.

About 10 minutes later I encountered an older woman with very short white hair leaning against the wooden railway that borders the duck pond.  She had a baseball cap turned backwards perched on her head and was holding a camera with multiple lenses.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Shhhhhhh" she whispered.  Then did a slow finger point gesture across the pond.

I followed her point to the multiple boulders on the other side of the pond and finally picked out a mound of blue-gray.

It was a blue heron.  I breathed out a quiet "oh" and whispered "It's like humming birds, you never expect to see them unless they are in flight."

She quietly said "I've been here over an hour waiting for him to move.  I want to take an action shot."

"Do you want me to throw a rock at it?" I asked.

Of course I was joking but she didn't know that.  She looked at me in horror until she saw my teasing smile.

She chuckled a bit and began telling me about her camera equipment and her membership in the local camera club.

What I took away from the conversation is that if she was building a camera collection now she would be focusing on Canon; but because she started with Nikon it would be too expensive to switch over.  She spoke at length about the fact that lenses and other pieces of equipment are not interchangeable among brands.

I wished her a good day and as I walked away I could hear her softly say.....

"All I want is one winning picture....just one."

This is my favorite shot from the park that day.