Today I took a much-needed vacation day to try to decompress from the last few weeks. I wasn't quite sure what to do with the free time, but around noon, as I was looking out the window at the cloudy skies and drizzle - my favorite sort of weather - I decided that what I really wanted to do was take a walk in the rain.
So, off I went to the park. I was expecting to be the only person crazy enough to be there, but apparently ladies over sixty-five also like to go walking on rainy days, and I said hello to several of them as I wandered through the park's 350-acre expanse. Here are a few photos I took along the way:
This park and I have a long history together. When I first moved to California at age nine, my toddler brother and I played there. A few years later, my middle-school cross-country team had its meets there. Not long after that, I ditched high-school classes to hang out there (sshhh), sometimes with friends and sometimes by myself. I took G there for play dates when she was younger, and now that she's too old for slides and sandboxes, I can still occasionally convince her to go for walks there, or sit on a bench with me and people-watch.
It's been years and years since I was there alone, though, and I had forgotten how quiet and peaceful it can be, especially on weekdays when the usual soccer-playing, dog-walking, picnic-having people are at work. The deeper you go, the more you can forget that you're near strip malls and fast-food restaurants and busy streets, and the more you can imagine that you're someplace far away from your everyday life. It wasn't something I'd planned to do today, but it turned out to be exactly what I needed.