Sunday, October 11th, 2020

The lampposts on the way to work are out of sequence. I pass three of them. I notice, for the first time, that the numbers stenciled on them are 2472, 2473, and then 2471. That bothers me more than it should. The one a little past them is 18172. It and the rest appear to be numbered arbitrarily. That’s OK. But these three look like they had been planned and set down as a group. I would think that they would be sequential. I wonder about it for a while, but there’s nothing I can do. I go back to my usual pastime of sorting the digits on the license plates of the cars that I see so that, in my head at least, the numbers are more symmetrical. I usually walk up this side of the street on the way to work and down the other side on the way home. This evening, I walk down the morning side so I can double check the number on that last lamppost. I make a note of it and continue walking. Despite all the streetlights, this side of the street is darker than the one on which I usually walk at night. The sidewalks are narrower here. I avoid several collisions with people going the other way. I have to silently negotiate who is to step aside and who is to keep going when I encounter other people who, like me, are wider than most. The streetlamp on the walkway past the kindergartens is still out. When I think that I have reached the first set of steps, I remember to pull out my phone and light the way. I see that the staircase isn’t for another few meters. Where I had paused, the stones dip a little, but not as much as at the stairs. I walk both sets of steps easily, then go on to where the streetlamps work again. I juggle my groceries and the phone to get it back into my pocket, then continue on.