It was freedom to walk away from my desk--work and worries--and go out in the middle of the afternoon while there was still plenty of light. These trees, one on each side of the entrance of a building on Lenox, grow full in unobstructed light, fill the scrappy front yard, and shade the worn facade. The woman in a pink sari came home.
I went on to the beach and walked north at low tide. Yellow flags at the lifeguard stations signaled rough water, danger, rip tide; purple flags signaled more danger from men of war and jelly fish. I picked my way. The surf was cold.
Feet back in Crocs, I walked west and bought a loaf of bread, west again to the thrift shop, where I bought forks. By the time I got to Flamingo Park, the lights were on. Five thirty, school night, parents, mostly mothers out with their children, people in motion laying out dinner.
The lights shone brighter. I watched children play soccer. By the time I got home it was dark, new moon invisible.
How good to be back in Crocs! May the wind, as they say, be always at your back as you walk from the work and worries.
ReplyDeleteWalking with you, dear Mim. . .
ReplyDelete. . . and happy to know that by the time you arrived home, a new moon was visible.
L, C xo
it' s all about the atmopshere which occurs through your words, your writing, which I appreciate so much!
ReplyDeleteThank you for returning, the meaning of time and life.
ReplyDeletePlease have a good Thursday.
daily athens
Always nice to take a walk with you -- barbara
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you all came along as I went about my small life. I was grateful to follow the light.
ReplyDeleteLoved that walk around your neighbourhood. Many thanks.
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
Words like snapshots, snapshots like words.
ReplyDeleteCheers, Mim,
John
These are gorgeous pictures!
ReplyDelete