 If my brain needs a break, I will give my brain a break.
I decided on a low-key walk around Beaver Lake, found in the heart of Stanley Park. I also passed over the mental decisions to Monty. When he walked, I walked. And when he stopped to sniff, I stopped to rest. My feet shuffled on the gravel as we walked around the first loop in silence. No one was around. I felt like a pony plodding around a thirty foot ring at a petting zoo. On the second loop, there were still no people. Monty bit into a stick and carried it lopsided like a baseball bat, as if he was going to hit a home run with the next runner’s kneecap. Four loud sarcastic quacks of a mallard duck interrupted our silence, as if it was fake laughing to a bad joke. Whenever Monty stopped walking, I stared out at the lake. Not much there except five foot high, prickly hard-stem bulrush, pressed close together in the middle of the lake, like an army cadet’s hair-cut after a two week shore leave. A third quiet loop confirmed this to be a successful experiment in brain restoration. Photo by Lightspeeeed Comments are closed.
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