At 9 p.m., it was an almost-balmy 82. The humidity was a little too high for it to be pleasant, but the notion of doing some exercise outside lured me to the rubberized running track around Khalifa University, 100 yards from my door … and it was there that I got a bit of a look at Eid Al Adha.

My limited view into the Islamic holiday came from seeing some kids and a couple of dads in the parking lot, on Day 3 of the four-day holiday.

First, it was what I took to be an Emirati father, in T-shirt and shorts (an unusual look, in public, even at night), and a little girl, perhaps 4, who was perched on a shiny pink bike, tot-sized, pedaling slowly as her father walked along with her, providing emotional/practical security — she was not going to fall over.

She seemed very pleased to be out. Maybe it was being with dad. Maybe it was the excitement of powering a vehicle herself. Maybe it was some ongoing sort of Eid kiddie buzz.

A few of my slow laps later, same parking lot, the cast of characters had changed.

The father this time was from the subcontinent, and he had both a son and daughter with him.

The sun also was perched atop a kiddie bike, and was pedaling it, as dad followed along. He was about 5, and he was getting the hang of it quickly. His father was with him as he did 50-yard laps in a tight oval of his own making, but after about 10 minutes Dad was having trouble keeping up and would turn short at the outer ends of laps, to avoid having to jog.

A few laps after that, the father, apparently satisfied with his son’s proficiency, had shifted his attention to his daughter, a little butterball of perhaps 8, and she was beaming and laughing, in that genuine way kids laugh, as she and Pops tried to keep a badminton shuttlecock in the air. I had seen the new set — a couple of rackets, a net, a birdie — in a little plastic package laid on the curb. A game of catch, essentially.

It wasn’t clear which delighted her more, successfully returning the birdie or having to retrieve those she had missed. (Something to think about: Shuttlecocks are superior to balls in that when you miss them … they just hit the ground and go inert. No chasing involved.)

Meanwhile, sonny boy was moving along briskly on his bike, and the training wheels already were slowing the kid down. They would be off shortly, no doubt.

It was my limited intersection with Eid Al Adha. As is often the case here, I am at a cultural remove from the majority of the population, both citizens and expats.

I will work three of the four days of the holiday — that’s what you do, in journalism. That’s what I did in the States. But here, I don’t know what I am missing. Literally.

Eid. It is safe to say the vast majority of people here had three of the four days off, and a significant minority took all four days. This was my one chance to see a little bit of it, and it looked like a joyful, happy event.