Gray skies have cleared up

For the first day in the last ten, we've had no rain. Hooray! I woke up early and oddly refreshed; I decided to walk the Central Park loop for the first time in ages. (Full disclosure, I knew I was going to cut off the topmost bit, which tends to be sparsely travelled).

I cruised through a gang of dogs near the Sheep Meadow hoping to find Marianne, Schlomo and Lulu (one of those is a person), but they weren't out. Travelling northward, I was passed by pairs and groups of runners. Everyone had the same idea I did: get out early, in case the weather turns on us. Howard Stern and his tall blonde girlfriend ran by.

A racewalker sped past me. He had special racewalking shoes on, kind of like booties that hiked up to his calves. A little while later, he was coming towards me, elbows flapping. He shouted, "Go Amherst!" to me, on account of my gray and purple A sweatshirt, I assume. I recognized him. He was that guy a class or two ahead of me who was the racewalker. I wish I could remember his name. I'd love to learn how to walk faster, do a marathon.

Later in the day, sunnier now, I decided to go back to the park, this time to take photographs of the angel atop Bethesda Fountain. I have dozens of pictures of her, but none of them are perfect, and I had a few more pictures on the roll of film in my camera. I have been hoarding at least a half dozen undeveloped rolls for months now. This is the weekend I would take them to be developed!

Except that I couldn't find them. They had rested for months in a glass vase I keep on my kitchen counter. Now they are gone. Thinking about it, I'm pretty sure I haven't seen them in a while. I never throw out a film canister, even an empty one, without opening it first. Where did I move them to? Could my cleaning woman done something with them?

Ack. I was upset. Almost too upset to leave the apartment as planned. Suddenly, these rolls of film, from my brother Dan's wedding (he just celebrated his first anniversary) and who knows what else, were the focal point of my existence. I could not go on.

But I perservered, and I'm glad I did, because if I hadn't have gone back to the park I would have missed seeing Bono, buying ice cream for his kids. Very sweet.