Before the dog walk, I write out on the back deck. It’s damp from last night’s rain. When the leaves flutter, moisture drips down like a second rainfall. They seem to have more to say than I do, those drops.
Tiger-saw judders at a neighbor’s back facade where a new porch is in progress. A female vocalist’s plaintive song drifts across the yards. Fifteen degrees to the north, kids erupt out of the school building, dashing to basketball court, hollering. Thud, thud, thud go the balls. Now a man sings — Sam Cooke, I think.
Darling, you-oo send me …
On our walk, Finn and I pass a vibrant arc of purple and magenta petunias before coming upon a dusty crew of masons. They’ve made progress since yesterday. They look hot. Two admire the new front stoop, a third wacks a mallet at the soon-to-be deconstructed side stoop.
In less than a block, a hawk drifts a lazy loop above the rooftops, wings outspread.
A young woman passes us down near the tracks. It takes me a minute to figure out her footwear: black ankle socks in white Croc slides. Her hair shines down her back and I can almost hear her right hip click.
The stretch of sidewalk where I noticed with surprise yesterday that I was feeling no pain, did not offer the same observation today.
Up the hill at the Greek revival place on Cypress, two turkeys walk in circles. They look nonchalant, but I know better. Two females.
Back at the house, I peel off my socks with relief. I’m sweaty. A nearby fan offers cool air and a soothing whir. And now a stone saw. A neighbor is redoing his driveway with pavers.
I did not take any pictures on our walk this morning. But I’ll be back later with more collages. More, you say? Yes.
“Her hair shines down her back and I can almost hear her right hip click.” yeow – I love that. Particularly in the context of the rest. The sounds of your morning… and the twist when you were feeling no pain – was that a twist, a flip, or an inversion or was it me missing my coffee? I am not that far from Boston, in RI as at a fabtabulous beachy and kiddo studded week; community cookouts, body surfing and bit of sailing. A-mazing. Also, taking the opportunity to restart my race-walk jogging in this slagheap of a body, so I’m interested to hear that you write before dog walking. I need to reconfigure my mornings and gotta fit in the doggy-wog. love to yas.
Ooh the beach. I’m jealous. Yes you read right. Realizing I was feeling no pain yesterday is a lot like looking around in a quiet moment in our backyard and realizing that there is no offending noise. Doesn’t happen much.
I enjoyed going along with you through the first parts of your day. Finney looks at ease with the fan and the moisture on green (last pic) is wonderful to see. Realizing an absence of pain and discomfort is such a treat.
Finn likes the fan. He likes his various pillows too.
Thanks for taking me along on your morning walk .. I was right there with you. Your words have such a wonderful flow .. hopefully the rest of your day flows as beautifully.
Glad you could come! BTW I think of you every sunny dog walk because I keep my sunglasses in that whimsical glass case you made for me. 💕
Sense-ational … thanks for taking us along
and I love the word “judders”
Judder is a great word. I agree.
Since I don’t walk around here, I enjoyed “walking” with you…spotting the turkeys brought to mind a walk in TN, I rounded a bend and there must have been about half a dozen turkeys strutting about, shocked me to say the least…
And this morning, Trust Thurs, my concentration was all shot to hell when I heard that tell tell “whoosh” sound, looked up and overhead, a formation of 5 hot air balloons, flying about. After all of this time and the many sightings, I still get giddy with delight and somehow, it eased the moment and so I held to thoughts of freedom, getting away from it all, how our land must look from way up high and how a silly, grinning, waving, prancing woman must look to those in the balloon! I even danced around the grapevine, my place to stand and hold my thoughts. I guess you could say that reciprocity came into play, they gave me an uplift moment and I hope I did the same for them with my antics!
Another classic Marti scene! I can see you waving, the balloons traveling overhead. A sense of perspective comes through.
Like I was there with you. Reading a book on writing by Verlyn Klinkenborg: Several Short Sentences about Writing. Many short sentences here. So inviting for the reader.
Read like a writer! Thank you. I’ve always thought it was variety that mattered. Long, long, super short and so on.
Sam Cooke and a black dog napping by the window with a fan………..thank you for the word picture that I will have all day long…….sigh. I needed that.