Walking Off the Big Apple

The guys downstairs closed their diner, broke down the newsstand, and tossed the pieces to the curb. The barbershop closed last week, or maybe two weeks ago, commemorated with an Irish wake of beers. The bagel shop tried to stay open but gave up. There’s one bodega open across the street, and a few guys are still hanging out there, drinking cans of beer out of paper bags. The florist has shuttered, and the shoe repair guy, too. The juice bar that was going to open never did. The pet food store is still open. Around the corner on Broadway, the grocery store opens at 7 am, a time popular with older people and morning larks. This morning, the shelves were still well stocked with produce and meats, but not so much with bread and toilet paper. The pharmacy is open, and the liquor store, too. Other places may be open or closed, but at this point, everyone is told to go out for only what they need and then go home. The park was pleasant this morning, even under cloudy skies. The cherry bl

I took a walk yesterday in my local park. It was 7:15 am, and the weather was foggy and mild. It would warm up into the 70s later in the day, and I knew that walking early would give me a better chance at maintaining the proper distance from other people. Before arriving in the park, I had to walk through an obstacle course of potential threats. These include the sets of doorknobs that I would need to open in order to leave my apartment building. I then had to steer clear of the street corner where people congregate and talk, some of them with repeating dry coughs that I can hear regularly from my third floor apartment. If I can make it one block without encountering anyone too close, I feel safe. There’s an abundant forest at the end of the block, and the forest is not out to kill me. Walking in forests with a mindful intent, often known as "forest bathing," is known to provide a host of health benefits including the reduction of stress and an enhanced sense o