They say there is no English equivilant for flâner. One must use 6 words to get close: “to wander aimlessly around a city.” I have lived until today not knowing there was a word for it: for my love of the agenda-less stroll, for having no plan but for going and arriving on foot. For the slow traverse of a city, but at a quick pace. For seeing what we see and being content with what comes our way; not dwelling on all the ways that did not come, or the beats we missed or the streets we skipped. For the joy of returning home — sweaty and full — sometimes tipsy with wine and always tipsy with wonder — ready to do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and always.