Path walkers log: on my route at 6:17 a.m.
Of all the Saturday mornings to sleep in, this would have been it.
Up after midnight yet wide awake at 4:30. I really wanted to sleep in, or at least stay in bed, for once in my sordid existence.
But yesterday I spied an empty tall kitchen bag with a red tie strap snagged on a trunk of a tree along the sidewalk I patrol. So rather than roll over and attempt to dream of other things, I thought about that one single bag. I hauled my sorry carcass up and out of the sack and went downstairs to get my coffee started.
The bag wasn’t all that far from the house; perhaps 600 yards into my walk. It was the first thing I retrieved but surely not the last.
As I sit on the couch writing this, part of me still wishes for the gift of sleep. But the bag couldn’t wait. Sleep can.