Monday, March 8, 2010

Sunshine brings.

Sunshine dances through our apartment, and I decide to go outside to dance with it this afternoon. I walk across the neighborhood, up the hills, and down again. In a short walk, the neighbors are out, and the encounters are simple, but so sweet.

...

She rides, slowly, slowly towards me on her bicycle. I am used to bikers whizzing past me, but she is going as slow as a bike can go, right down the middle of the street. She is probably in her 60s, and she is dressed in warm clothes and flashy sunglasses. On each handlebar balances a bag of groceries from the grocery store down the way. She smiles at me, and I smile back.

"A beautiful day outside, isn't it?" I ask politely.

"Simply wonderful!" she responds with gusto.

When I wanted to go slowly up big hills, my dad used to tell me to use "granny gear" on my bike - the lowest gear. This older lady on the bike gives a whole new meaning to the phrase.

As I walk on, I think of this quote:

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined.  - Henry David Thoreau
...

He stares at me as a draw closer. A minute ago, he was driving a yellow dump truck, about a third of his size, up and down the driveway. Suddenly, the locomotion is halted with the show of a stranger.

"Hello," I say. I smile at him.

"Hello," he replies simply.

I continue past him, hearing him cough as I walk away.

"I have a cold."

Suddenly, I am no longer a stranger. He has announced his ailment to me. He coughs several more times, no doubtedly a cough produced from the warming temperatures.

I reply to his statement, "Oh, I'm sorry! I hope you feel better!"

He nods his little head, still grabbing hold of the yellow dump truck. I walk on and smile as he resumes his dump truck adventures, uninhibited by his cough and cold.

Ah, the dedication.