The meeting at church ended just after 9:00 p.m. It was a mild evening, with a breeze just strong enough to get your blood moving. I took a long walk.

I wandered around downtown Geneva, and got to the depot as the 9:46 from Chicago was just in. Not many people on the train. I headed back home along Second Street, and stopped to listen to a large bird squawking way up in a tree. (I have no idea what it was.) By the time I got to the Lutheran church, it was 9:55, and it looked like some meeting had just gotten out. It’s always good to know that another church’s meetings go longer than those at one’s own church.

Got across State Street in a break in the traffic. The Old Towne Pub there on the corner was mostly full. As I passed the back of the pub, a car went slowly by headed towards State Street, and someone said, “Hi!” I turned to look, but they were talking to a woman who came out the back of the pub just then. “Jesus!” she replied, in one of those Spanish accents that has a slight lisp.

No lights were on in the Methodist church on Second Street. (Maybe they got out even earlier than we did. Or maybe we’re a more active church than they. I’ll pretend it’s the latter. Not that I’m competitive or anything.)

No more thoughts of church the rest of the way home. No real thoughts at all Just: –It’s a beautiful evening.