Flaneur

I'm at a favourite coffee joint watching the world go by; double Americano, passionate colour-red,  and white.
The days are getting shorter, mid-winter's still about 15 days away. Today was the coolest I've experienced this winter: 23 degrees Celsius, a chilly wind but blue blue skies, and a choppy ocean brimming o'er with white mained horses. Nevertheless I'm only wearing a t-shirt and jeans. It's a red tshirt,  my favourite.
It's been the third day in a row of teaching;  I'm again pleasantly exhausted; satisfied.
I was at the venue early, to watch the dawn, to have coffee with myself,  to meet my maker at the pages.
The last three days I've left home, in Salt Rock, at six. Then I've enjoyed a slow drive - never going faster than 80 - to La Lucia, along the M4: I love that drive along the ocean edge, especially the vessels haphazardly playing battleships between Umdloti and Durban as they wait, in all directions and at all angles, on the elephant gray (this morning) and textured slab of ocean.
I'll never tire of this particular perspective of my coastline.
Then tonight the milky bars of light suspended in the pot of charcoal coloured ink with its diamond stuffed lid. The same ships from today and yesterday, waiting for green, so as to enter the harbour.
Now to pull myself up and into the gym; I've long ago learnt about the importance of achieving balance. And that there really is much to be obtained from a tad of discipline, and pain.
Yeah right.