Commuting
I had a half hour commute before the one I have today. I would wake up and scurry through a breakfast at my dorm room with a single objective: get on the 5 Freeway before 8 am. My employer, an investigative lawyer, expected me to show up by 8:30 am in his Anaheim offices which, from La Mirada, could take anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour, depending on traffic.
My approach was to get on the freeway after the construction taking place at the intersection of the 5 and 91 freeways. I would usually head from La Mirada to Beach Blvd, turn south and cross over the 5 continuing until I found a street that could turn me back to the east so I could get on the 5 after the mess of construction and traffic. I would listen to the radio and let the strip malls and other cars fade into a big blur of getting there.
This morning my half hour was a stroll through the sleepy residential pieces of Brookings, one and a half miles to the small brick building where I spend my day. In my half hour I see one or two other people on a walk. Most don’t look like they are headed to work. I few people are jogging as well but for the most part I’m alone. I duck low hanging branches by some yards. Maple trees are easy to identify but I can consistently see four or five other leaf types on the different trees I pass. Wind is typical here in South Dakota and as I plod towards my destination I’m surrounded by the ambient noise of the wind in these leaves as the trees sway back and forth in an odd sort of slow hula dance.
I’ve begun to recognize landmarks on my way. There is an enormous mansion with Georgian pillars in front. Last week in the evening I saw a dinner party there – men in suits shrouded behind lace curtains, laughter and posturing. I also pass an old Methodist church whose age and character I find reassuring.
Once I had a commute – a little longer than this one – on a train from Irvine to Los Angeles. Its sole merit was the newspaper; I had time, between the trip there and back, to go from cover to cover. It definitely outdid the scenery as we passed the industrialized rubble south of Los Angeles in Commerce and Industry. Occasionally other passengers were interesting to watch, mouths agape, as they slept, or as other business types took out papers, planners or any other object of self importance to impose an image to fellow passengers. Often such folk sat by someone who slept for all their care of that posturing.
My newspaper comes with coffee, before I leave. It’s a big NY Times I buy for the dastardly price of $5 on Sunday in Sioux Falls and then journey through as the week progresses. I seldom finish it. I’ll detour today, probably heading a little further north on my way home, by a field of cows grazing. The big difference between the commute with car or train, and the walks I take these days is that prior to this I made every effort to zone out and disengage myself. When I'm walking, however, connecting with the outside is the entire point.
10:50:18 AM 
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