A Morning Walk

 The streets were dark and the streetlights only provided small pools of illumination onto the sidewalks. The road tapered off into the distance where tall buildings stood. Most of the lights in the buildings were off, the morning shifts having not yet arrived.

    A shadowy figure stands near a parking kiosk, waiting for a ride possibly. Parking the car, I cross the street with no real need to look either way, cars and trucks are rare at this time of the morning. I glance over my shoulder to make sure the shadow isn’t following me or going towards my car, but it isn’t really necessary.

    The one open business, a coffee shop, has just opened a few minutes ago. Already there are 3 customers inside. Two are leaning over a tall table, steaming coffee under their noses, deep in conversation. The other, is standing at the counter waiting for his order, talking to the barista. I am quickly taken care of and with my capped cup of coffee in hand, I start my walk.

    The sidewalks which will be crowded in a few hours are now deserted. Empty milk cartons sit against the buildings, seats for panhandlers later in the day. Restaurant chairs and tables sit empty. Lights in the stores are off, looking at the windows reveal only reflections of the outside world.

    A couple trucks sit in the slow lane, their back doors open to reveal the boxes of foods and goods waiting to be unloaded. A dark figure moves around in one of them, filling a pallet with items that will be sold later in the day. The streets are deserted, only an occasional car passes by. A couple bicyclists slip past soundlessly, only the lights they are wearing giving their passage away. The sidewalks are empty except for me.

    On a side street a car sits in front of a vape shop, or possibly the massage parlor upstairs. The car sits empty, crossing the street I don’t go close enough to see if the engine is running.

    The alleys are dark, filled with shadows. Dumpsters are mere shapes, filled with yesterdays trash, some with their lids propped up from the excess refuge. The parking lots are empty and the only sounds are from the infrequent passing car or truck. A man walks past, going to an unmarked door and knocks. It is opened and the bright lights of a work space flood the sidewalk and then the door closes and darkness returns.

    Returning to the car is quiet and uneventful. The sky is slowly brightening; hanging above the hills the half-moon is looking bright against the blue sky. All the stars and planets have disappeared. More lights have been turned on in the city.

    It is almost time for the morning train, so I stop to watch it pass. Setting up my tripod and camera, a man stops to ask what I’m doing. This is the first person I’ve talked with since my visit to the coffee shop. The whistle sounds and the light by the station brightens and then slowly gets larger. Within a minute, the train has passed me and is on its way across the state. Now it is only a memory, a memory in my mind, and on a chip inside my camera.

    The sky continues to brighten, and I turn the car towards home. There are chores to be done, and the rest of the day needs to play out. My walk through the Strip was invigorating; I got some steps in, a little exercise and a couple pictures. The streets of the Strip District almost always provide interesting visits, whether the stores are open or not, whether people are there or not. But when it is a dark morning, the streets deserted, and the stores all closed, it tends to be just a little more exciting!