Pretending I'm Retired

 Hikes don’t always turn out the way I planned. Maybe I should rephrase that to say hikes never turn out exactly the way I planned. There was the time I got stung by a bee. That time my friend broke her toe and gamely showed up for our hike wearing a soft boot. The multiple times I somehow got off the trail and ended up with a longer hike than expected. Often, the unexpected is joyful. Like rounding the bend of a switchback on a hot day and finding a shady picnic shelter. Like the time Paul and I were hiking down in Roanoke—about three hours from home—and happened to run into a dear friend. Yesterday, Paul and I set off on a five-mile hike around Quiet Waters Park in Annapolis. The first thing we noticed—Quiet Waters wasn’t quiet. Between the maintenance crew with leaf blowers and the construction crew repairing the paved trail, there was plenty of noise. I’ve never seen a “road closed ahead” sign on a trail before…which may be how we got turned around and heading in the wrong ...

I knew it was coming. It does—every single year. And this year is no exception: It’s November. Out with the peak foliage and in with the bare branches. The leftover pickings of Halloween candy are on clearance (Does anyone out there really like Whoppers?) and overnight the aisles were magically transformed with tinsel and evergreens. Around this time of year, I struggle to stay awake in the evenings. Maybe this is a curse of every early bird—our circadian rhythms dance to the beat of no clock. It’s 8:00 pm and I’m fighting to keep my eyes open until a more respectable hour. “Wait,” I think to myself. “Daylight savings time is coming. So then it will really be 9:00 at this time…no, that’s not right.” I’m 52 years old and I still have to whisper, “spring ahead, fall back” to myself. Also, “lefty loosey, righty tighty,” but I digress. 7:00 pm. When Daylight Savings Time takes effect tomorrow, my body is going to want to go to bed at 7:00 pm. I’ve tried talking some sense into my internal...