Waking, she slips out out of her room. On the floor, outside her bedroom lies the brother of a flatmate on a mattress. The flat is asleep, all but herself.

Stealing out, she closes the door behind her and runs into Consuelo from 4C, waiting for the bus route with Araceli, the porter’s wife. Both, kind. Both, waiting.

She walks out into the day, into the park behind the flats, into the sky and trees. They swallow her up with their coat of dark forest green and turquoised tips. Many a dog come to greet her, swishing their tails resolutely making sure everything is up to snuff, one sniff at a time.

Passing by others who are also out walking at this hour, getting air or exercising, she doesn’t know whether to greet them or to pretend she doesn’t see them. Today, she is unsure how to behave and treads cautiously. If she had it her way, she’d greet every single them and bid them a good day, sending a smile. But, it’s not the custom, It would appear they don’t do that here. Maybe at least a buenos días, she argues. She’ll do that. The custom can always be changed.

Not exactly sure how to be spending her time at present, she wanders. And in her wandering, a solution resolves into form. Being outside, being in nature makes sense if nothing else does. Stick to what makes sense, she tells herself.

If unsure, follow what you know. Carefully. Consciously. She continues her leisurely walk, trying to be as present as she can; stumbling upon some planted rosemary, bushel fulls and blooming a lilacquered flower. Jasmine and butterfly bush are there too. Inhale, fragrance. Exhale, sweetness. This too is a lesson.