Sunday afternoon my daughter and dog and I went for a walk down Echo Park Avenue. On the way, we met a neighbor named Ryan, who had found a sturdy bar for his heavy bag outside the Food market. He let me take his picture on condition I send it to him. Then Madeleine, Chyla, and I continued on our way to Delilah cafe, where patrons were pounding back peanutbutter cupcakes and whatnots. Perhaps it was the colder weather, but the street scene up and down the avenue was markedly more subdued than last weekend, when there were tables set up in front of all the shops, a country-music party at the Echo Outpost, dozens of chess players at Echo Park Lake, everyone walking their dogs. This week, at 3 p.m. it was long shadows and quiet, making Ryan's workout seem oddly private. Our walk, too.