Actually, my morning routine is a run/coffee/walk combo, with possibly some gardening thrown in. I ran cross country in high school, so now that I'm old running again gives me the illusion of youth. I can almost feel young again, except that when I try the final sprint to Safeway/Starbucks I can only manage about 10 yards before slowing again. (The coffee is the reward I give myself for the running.)
This morning I ran to the closest of our community gardens (Reston sponsors them, mostly on the right of way of the gas pipeline that runs through the community). After doing a little weeding to keep abreast of nature, I resumed my jog, to the water fountain next to the soccer field, also on the pipeline right of way. The soccer field replaces the original Reston landmark, dating back to the late 60's, a riding stable. The stable was just off the right of way, while the riding rink (terminology check?) was on it. Unfortunately Reston didn't attract enough horse enthusiasts to make the stable really thrive, so when the stable collapsed under the weight of snow, if I remember correctly, rebuilding was a dubious proposition. On the other hand, enough of the horsey set insisted that the stable be rebuilt. They were vocal enough to immobilize the decision makers. So the insurance money from the stable collapse sat in the bank for several years. Finally enough of the horse people moved so the powers-that-be were able to build a soccer field and basketball courts and kids play area. Oh, and the parking lots needed for the cars to carry people to the exercise areas.
When they built the complex (probably 1986-8ish), they put in a water fountain. I'm sure there was no debate--people exercise, get thirsty, they need water, for water you need to have a fountain. A century ago you'd put in watering troughs for the horses just as automatically. What the planners didn't realize was that technology was advancing. While Perrier water may have been the pricey option suitable for the rich then, entrepreneurs were starting to realize that people would pay good money for water in a bottle. Sure enough, when I paused on my jog for a drink, there was a Poland Springs bottle lying by the fountain. The fountain still works, but there may come the day when it becomes as unneeded as the horse stable that used to occupy the site.
Having depressed myself by this reminder of the march of progress, I went on to get my coffee.