Journal: September 18, 2005

I took a walk up the hill of Granite Street (heading for D’Angelos to pick up dinner) and I realized, shortly after I started, that I had never noticed most of the houses along the way. Strange, that I’ve lived here for two years and have never paid any attention to the houses on the street. In fact, I’ve paid no attention to anything around my house – the trees, the look of the land, the houses. As I climbed the hill, I felt like I was walking in a strange, undiscovered country. I worked over at school this morning, feeling a little guilty about spending a lovely Sunday morning in my classroom. I thought, maybe I should be out doing what other people are doing on this cool, clear morning – walking on the beach, hiking a trail in the woods, having brunch at a seaside restaurant. Most people are probably having great fun this morning, I said to myself. But then it came to me: I, too, am having fun. This is what I love to do, just as other men love to walk a golf course, fish a quiet stream, or take a walk in a forest. I love working in my classroom. It’s the best way I know to spend a beautiful September Sunday morning. After that, I relaxed and thoroughly enjoyed my work.