It was a Sunday.
Boulevards normally jammed with traffic were less so and moved more freely. It was a day of leisure. People were out and about.
The park was busier than the day before. Children ran in circles. There was laughter. Music played.
And, my eighth run began alongside the concrete aqueduct.
Just as the day before, I ran about a mile, and then veered off the right. I scaled the first wall effortlessly and ran a considerable distance before coming upon the same cinder block barricade I remembered from the previous day.
I had arrived at the blue tent.
But this time, the tent had an occupant. A small-framed man, perhaps 30 or so, sat upright on what appeared to be a sleeping bag. I did not want to startle or disturb the man. So, I quietly made my way over the wall and began to proceed down the path to continue my run.
Suddenly, one of the dogs started barking. And the other dogs too, joined in unison. The canine alarm bells had gone off.
I could not see the man’s face clearly. But, he must have been fearful. After all, few passersby run along the aqueduct and certainly no one scales over two barricades – on a weekend, no less – to invade the solitude this man had etched for himself in what was a gigantic foreign metropolis.
Alerted by the barking mutts, the man quickly rose to his feet when he saw me. He appeared startled, and it was easy to understand why this was so.
Seeing a invader passing along the aqueduct, in a place off-limits to pedestrian traffic, had to be a terrifying prospect for this frightened man resting in solace, who was clearly Hispanic, probably Mexican — and almost certainly an illegal alien.
That’s right — an illegal alien. Chew on those words for a moment.