Later. A decent walk, a bus ride downtown, a walk through the City Hall area ending up in the City Center to sit at a table for a while, skipping the coffee as I'd had more than my fill between breakfast and the WiFi café. A stop by a Starbucks to check the mail (I'm rapidly learning where the various WiFi access spots are located in the area) and then a stroll through Old Oakland with a walk back down Broadway and around the corner on Grand before catching the bus back to the apartment.

A picture or two, some of them halfway interesting, a decent outing with a camera covering a couple of miles on foot, back now at the apartment before noon. I should knock on wood, but the head still feels pretty good. The sun is now out, setting out in a t-shirt and a light jacket, by the time I was walking back up my hill the sky was clear and the temperature up to t-shirt only temperature. A nice September day in Oakland.

Later still. A walk down to the breakfast place for a grilled cheese sandwich, onion rings and iced tea. I wasn't able to eat but one or two of the onion rings, but I was pretty much expecting that. A good amble out, a nice amble back, taking time to sit at a couple of familiar places and watch the people pass. Nothing in the way of photographs, a shot from the local library (I look in every now and then. Free WiFi, many computers for the use of card holders, lots of movies and CD's. Oh, and books. They do have books. A twenty-first century organization. No complaints. Just noting the changes.

So I think a slow to slower late afternoon and evening. A bit more practice on the guitar after some time spent this morning. Ambling along rather than walking briskly along with the guitar, but that's OK too. I find I'm hot some weeks and not some weeks, but I do keep on playing.

A story I read today in one of the papers or heard on the radio, I can't for the life of me remember which; a simple story, no big deal, but relevant to my own situation. The story of a fellow related by his wife. He retired and proceeded to spend the next three months sitting in front of their television set watching whatever. After three months he got up, went out, bought a set of golf clubs and joined a golf club, spending his time playing.

Not unusual, the golf. Much as I'm doing with the camera and the journal. Two things that get me up in the mornings. And that's it. That's the story. No big deal, but a confirmation, perhaps, of what's going on here with me. I'm playing golf, but with words and images, out in the rough, not too worried if I ever break par or stop feeding balls into the lakes. Success, in some senses of success, I'm thinking.