It's a nice day outside, and I have comfortable shoes, so I decide to go for a little walk. There's a very quiet place in the city park behind my office building, below the railroad tracks, away from the wide, sanded trails used by most of the bikers and joggers. 

I like to think of this as my little private road. Of course I know that other people use this road. People live on this road. There are four houses tucked up on the hill, about a mile away from anything else. But I never see these people. They never use this road. No one does. Just me when I walk. Ahhh.

I am entering the deep section of my little road, now. My hideaway. The trees are dried from drought, but they still have their leaves. They arch over me and create that spotted effect I enjoy so much. It's suddenly ten degrees cooler.

Deep breath: I am alone. I am calm. It is wonderful.

There is a kind of alcove in the trees now, where the asphalt swells out into the underbrush. I'm in my work clothes (on my lunch break, after all), so I sit on this clean, level place. My eyes are closed. I meditate.

"You waiting for a bus?" I jump. I didn't hear him come up on his bicycle. I scowl. Rude man.

Buses don't come here, he should know, but he is already far past me, having ruined my otherwise perfect quiet.
 

It's a nice day outside, and I have comfortable clothes, so I decide to go for a little ride. There's a very quiet place in the city park behind my office building, below the railroad tracks, away from the wide, sanded trails used by most of the bikers and joggers.

I like to think of this as my little private road. Of course I know that other people use this road. People live on this road. There are four houses tucked up on the hill, about a mile away from anything else. But I never see these people. They never use this road. No one does. Just me on my bicycle. Ahhh.

I am entering the deep section of my little road, now. My hideaway. The trees are dried from drought, but they still have their leaves. They arch over me and create that spotted effect I enjoy so much. It's suddenly ten degrees cooler.

Deep breath: I am alone. I am calm. It is wonderful.

There is a kind of alcove in the trees now, where the asphalt swells out into the underbrush. There's a woman in work clothes (on her lunch break, probably), sitting on a clean, level place. Her eyes are closed. I speak.

"You waiting for a bus?" She jumps. She didn't hear me come up on my bicycle. She scowls. Rude girl.

Buses don't come here, I should add, but she is already far behind me, having ruined my otherwise perfect quiet.