Walk or Danish?

Faced with a blank page and a few unfocused thoughts, here I sit.

There is an uncertain light outside my window, pushing to get in out of the cold, slipping past the chair and onto the floor with a silent glance backward. It's like he's a harried tax man on April 14, doing what he can with the information given to him.

Clouds, with undulating patterns of blue and gray, shield the sun's brilliance from me. No fog today. He's lolling around somewhere else, probably eating a berry cheese danish from Pavel's Bakerei. If I were the fog, I sure would be eating one of those.

With all kinds of resolve, I strode out into the day, walked down to the water's edge and east to Hopkins Marine Station, the physical land form the denoting the edge of Pacific Grove's waterfront. 45 minutes of good intention rassled with an unruly impulse to head over to Pavel's for one of those cheese danishes. Good God, they are just delicious. But, intention is everything, and I can claim victory today, at least for now.

One day after a longer, even more brisk walk, I will go and sink my teeth into one of those and tell you all about it. Every crumb, every morsel, every single bit. For now, though, responsibility and prudence are calling, and I must prepare for work.