Wednesday, April 11, 2007


The brim of The Mr.’s hat I’m wearing drips with water. Rain drops tap on my head. I had decided not to mess with wearing a poncho since last time I walked in the rain it was really more trouble than it was worth.

Maybe I’ll cut my walk short. I’ll decide once I get over to Promenade. As long as there’s no downpour, I’ll be fine.

Tap, tap, tap goes the rain on my coat. The wind blows drops onto my glasses and I lower my head just a tad so that my hat might shield my eyes. But I don’t like to walk looking at the sidewalk, so I grin and bear it.

The dog seems unusually interested in chasing cars this morning and gets herself wrapped twice around a tree. I start to shorten her leash when I hear cars coming. The drivers must think I’m crazy for voluntarily being out in the cold and wet conditions.

As long as there’s no downpour, I’ll be fine.

The house on Promenade that’s under construction had the front door left open yesterday morning. As I come up the small hill on that street, I look to my right to see if the door is open. The early morning darkness keeps me from seeing that the mounds of dirt in the front yard had turned to mud; my feet squish and slide.

Oh, geez!

With every step more mud, more mud, more mud. I have no traction on the brick sidewalk and I'm afraid I'll fall. The dog keeps going, walking right through the mud without a care. I don't stop, don't think about moving into the grass, just keep going. I look back and see that the front door is closed.

My glasses are smudged now and I wonder if this is what retinopathy looks like. I take a tissue from my coat pocket and wipe off the left lens while the dog contemplates going after another car. Passing the hospital, I watch the rain beneath one of the tall light posts in a parking lot. It’s misty and the wind keeps it from falling straight.

Passing Jefferson, I think about turning right and going home. But I’m on a roll and keep on.

As long as there’s no downpour, I’ll be fine.

I’m in a zone and start my cool down a block later than usual. The dog sees another dog far enough away that its owner doesn’t even notice us. She’s obsessed with saying hi. Under cover of a storefront overhang, I wipe my smudged glasses again. I’m almost home.


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