As you know, time slips away, even more quickly as we age. At my age the days can become remarkably similar, only certain activities distinguish one from the other. Day light turns to night, but even the natural process can seem unable to differentiate. What is today, let me think, oh it's Saturday. See what I mean.
I did manage a brisk walk to the beach this morning, which was almost enjoyable. The day was bright and warm, with little wind, but every ilk of human was careening around. Large groups of cyclists sped hither and yon, small organized foot races filled streets and walkways, bumping into each other. Then the ubiquitous tour buses spewing diesel fumes stopped and started at all points of interest. The only ones indifferent or aloof from such frenzy were the buffalo lounging in their bare dirt spots across the meadow.