benches

Tuesday afternoon I walked uphill to Balboa Park. I sat on one bench in the direct sunshine, then on another where I had once snapped a picture of my former Portland wife. Then I walked around through the park’s elegance before sitting on a third bench, this one with a back, allowing me to lean into and relax my weariness.

I went on this excursion knowing I would sit on a bench (or three) to do what I often talk about here in Couch Surfing at 70 – to take the bench. I was even carrying my Walden House sweatshirt (WH where I first learned of ‘taking the bench’), which I put on walking back in the gathering chill.

I take the bench and I can ask the question – How did I get ‘Here’? Fortunately, within a flurry of activity and a mass of people, there was no one to talk to.