Theo spends his first full day in Golden waking early in his hotel room and looking out at the southern dawn. Having arrived the previous afternoon from wintry New York City by private jet to Atlanta and then a chauffeured car ride south, Theo takes in the warm, springlike landscape, including the Oxbow River with fog hovering above it and familiar landmarks he studied beforehand.

Rested and eager for a closer view than the window provides, Theo dresses comfortably, checks his appearance, hangs a “Do Not Disturb” sign, and heads downstairs. Theo tips his hat to the desk clerk and steps into the cool morning, intending to walk the streets before they fill with people and traffic.

Along Broadway, most businesses are still closed except for a coffee shop and a small diner, and Theo has the sidewalk largely to himself at first. With no destination, Theo moves slowly because he repeatedly stops to satisfy his curiosity about whatever catches his eye, from ornamental ironwork and brick composition to historic plaques and a modern sculpture near the university nursing school.

Theo pauses to address a small bird begging for crumbs, apologizing for having nothing to offer and comparing the bird’s situation favorably to New York’s weather. He also picks up an empty beer bottle and throws it away, then uses a magnifying loupe to study a purplish azalea bloom.

By the time Theo has walked only two blocks, traffic and pedestrians have arrived and parking has filled, but Theo feels no pressure to hurry. Relishing his lack of obligations and his anonymity as a tourist, Theo reflects that he knows no one in town—perhaps one person—and, uncertain how long he will stay, concludes that Golden already feels like a pleasant temporary home.