It’s early, six a.m., and I have embarked on my daily stroll which takes me about an hour and covers around 6000 steps. My pace is such that I do a mile in 20 minutes, summing up to about three miles. My walks are confined to my neighborhood because I lack the time to visit a park or a natural place.

This morning is cloudy, and as I step out of the house, there is the ever-present concern of rain. However, I decide to take my chances, as it’s still too early for a downpour, which usually happens later in the day.

The first thing that strikes me is the symphony of bird noises resonating from the trees. Each house in our mature neighborhood boasts at least one or two mature trees in front. While the birds remain hidden, their varied songs fill the air. Every now and then, I catch a glimpse of one on the ground in search of food. This simple sight is a reminder of our human forefathers, who, like these birds, would rise early in the morning to gather the day’s food.

As I navigate the pavements, I notice some of them being watered. Depending on the timing, I might see the sprinklers in action or evidence of their recent use in the wet patches in front of garages. At times, I have to veer off the path to avoid the sprinkler’s spray.

Most houses, regardless of size, have more than one car parked out front, which I find puzzling. Why aren’t they parked inside? Additionally, today being garbage day, I see the familiar sight of black garbage bins for regular waste and blue ones for recyclable material. Some bins are neatly closed, others overflowing. In our neighborhood, Thursdays also mark the pickup day for garden waste, so piles of branches and leaves are common.

Another curious observation: even though some of the cars are electric, they are being charged outside instead of in the garage. Some houses have solar LED lights that dim as daylight breaks.

Today, my walk feels somewhat solitary. I don’t encounter many others, possibly due to the humidity or the fact it’s a weekday. Still, I occasionally pass someone, and I even spot a garbage truck emptying recycling bins.

Cars pass by sporadically. I can’t help but wonder about the drivers leaving the neighborhood so early – most likely, they are heading to work. Despite it being a popular time for dog-walking, I don’t spot any dogs today. Yet, signs instructing people to clean up after their pets are evident, reminding me of the common courtesy we owe each other in a community.

My walk is also punctuated by other neighborhood signs, like those indicating children crossing zones, hinting at the young families residing here.

Today, a rare event: a fire truck, sirens blaring, races by, followed closely by a paramedic vehicle. It’s a grim reminder of life’s unpredictability, knowing someone’s day has started in a crisis.

During my walk, I encounter a woman laboriously moving with the help of a walker. Her determination is commendable and raises the question: where are all the healthy, young people? It’s ironic that those who struggle the most are the ones who understand the importance of activity.

While walking, I notice the multitude of Amazon boxes in open garbage cans, hinting at our society’s reliance on online shopping and the immense scale of Amazon’s operation.

Another unusual sight is a rabbit, hopping from place to place as the sun begins to rise. Later, I cross paths with a mother and daughter, conversing in Spanish as they jog past. This heartwarming sight underlines the perfect blend of fitness and family time.

Even rarer, I spot an owl catching a worm, its keen eyesight making short work of the hunt. This predator-prey dynamic reminds me that life, in all its forms, is about survival, whether in the natural world or human society. In essence, our daily lives are interconnected and contingent on the balance of nature, a thought that lingers as I continue my morning walk.

I just saw a minibus, one could call it, a little larger than a van, drive past. It had ‘Sunshine Retirement’ written on it, a county service where they pick up and transport older people who can’t drive themselves from one place to another. Mostly, they take them to their doctor appointments, to church, and so forth. I imagine it’s a wonderful service for those who don’t have anyone else to drive them around and aren’t capable of driving themselves. It seems that there’s at least one person in our neighborhood who uses this service. Instances like these make me appreciate the role of government, stepping in help those who can’t always provide all the services for themselves.

While walking, I notice some houses with welcoming signs, bird feeders hanging from trees or branches, butterflies, and other ornaments decorating the front yards. One house even has a rocking chair where I’m sure the owner sits at some point during the day to enjoy the outdoor view. Other houses display security signs, warning that the house is under surveillance. It’s a nice contrast to see these different aspects of neighborhood life.

Sometimes, I walk slower depending on the previous day’s activities and my energy level. On a day where I’m more focused on observing, it takes me slightly over 20 minutes to walk a mile, but three miles in the morning is just right.

While walking, I encounter a black dog walking ahead of its owner, leash-free. Even when dogs are leashed, I tend to step off the pavement and let them pass as one can never be too sure about a dog’s temperament. This time, I stepped aside, and the dog’s owner not only greeted me but also thanked me for moving aside. This practice has become quite common, particularly after COVID. During the pandemic, people would step off the sidewalk even if you were without a dog to maintain a safe distance.

As I pass another neighbor’s house, I see them dragging out their trash bags. Most people put out their trash the night before, but this neighbor either prefers to do it in the morning or simply forgot to do it the previous night.

As I continue my walk, the sun is rising, its rays filtering through the trees. I feel the warmth of the sun, which is one of the reasons I like to walk early in the day when the UV rate is low. If the sun is high, I wear a hat and sometimes apply sunscreen on my face.

I spot acorns fallen from trees, providing a feast for the local squirrels. Some neighbors’ trees have piles of acorns beneath them. While passing by, I admire the different landscapes of the houses. Some neighbors have put significant time and resources into making their yards beautiful while others have done just enough to avoid community fees and fines.

One particular neighbor has two American flags hanging under the lights in their garage, signifying their patriotism. As I walk past them, I appreciate these differences and carry on.

Along the path, I see a man with two dogs and a cat following behind. The cat, with a collar around its neck, must have snuck out of its house, intrigued by the dogs. Further down the path, I see a married couple, both walking a separate dog. They too move off the path when they see me approaching, a common practice in our neighborhood.

One house has a ‘For Sale’ sign while the house across is having its roof replaced. I also spot newspapers in front of a few houses, mostly belonging to the older generation who still read the news in print.

As I near the end of my walk, I’m in front of my house. I managed to walk three miles in an hour and nine minutes, a bit slower than usual. But at least I accomplished my goal of enjoying my neighborhood mindfully, without judgment. I enjoyed the nature, got my morning exercise, soaked in some sun, and observed the intricacies of human and animal behaviors. I will carry this morning’s energy with me for the rest of the day.