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Shadows of leaves tumbled and danced 'round her, then fell
to the sidewalk; teased free by the breeze. Large oaks and
ash trees, generations old, lined the street. Between the
sidewalks on either side of the road a lush, grassy median
ran the length of the boulevard. It
was the middle of March, sunny and warm. Every now and then
a breeze would kick up, skirl over the sun-warmed cement,
and stir the limbs of trees. Birds pruned themselves under
the gentle cascades of lawn sprinklers. Squirrels chittered
in the leafy boughs, scampered 'neath the trees, played tag
with one another in manicured yards.
With a lumbering pace and head bent she was walking home.
Only when she saw a curb at her feet did she know that she'd
reached another street. She shifted her schoolbooks from one
arm to the other and clamped her arm tight against her side.
A tear from each eye slipped from her face to the cement
below. Two drops, one of sadness, one of frustration. In
moments they dried away. New to the area, the school, and
everything around her, the girl felt decidedly glum. She was
praying for a friend; feeling one, good, friend would shift
her perception of this new place.
Bring it closer to feeling like home.
She disappeared behind a long, boxy, stretch of shrubbery as
she turned a corner. A block behind her, he could smell the
tang of regret and loneliness in the moist air that lingered
in her wake. Just in front
of him a thin-legged, skinny dog ambled nonchalantly on the
walkway. He had peach-blonde hair that stood out from his
slim body and lanky legs in tattered tufts. His small, dark
amber ears flopped down and only stood up when he tilted his
scruffy head back to bark. Cotton candy fluffs of
sun-bleached peach colored hair stood out from his face and
the top of his head. A scrappy little guy, he'd been left
behind when his family moved. Sticking around places where
there'd be people made him a happy dog. His dark, bright
eyes studied the man as he swiveled his head over his
shoulder to get a good look at the person on the walk behind
him.
The man turned his palm in the direction of the path ahead
and nodded. The dog took note, chuffed his approval, spun
one loopy circle, then paused a moment. A stray zephyr
stirred the cotton candy fur atop his
head. His pink tongue shot out the side of his muzzle and
with a smile he was off.
The offbeat tap of an oak cane played counterpart to bird
song and the gurgle of a fountain in the yard the man was
passing. Stooped with age and slowed by time his body bent
as if tugged by gravity. Tall and thin, his clothes hung on
a frame that had once filled the garments with the virile,
supple body of youth and good health. Even with the new
prescription in his glasses, nothing looked sharp. The world
for him was a bit hazy. Blurry, like his memory seemed to be
getting. He didn't hear so well anymore, either. And though
the bird's melody carried sweetly to his ear, the liquid
spill of the fountain was beyond his grasp.
He stopped in front of a stone bench. Putting his weight to
the cane he turned around and sat down. The cool shade felt
good. He lowered his head and when a curl of wind brought to
him the fresh perfume of orange blossoms, memories filled
his thoughts.
The images unfurled like the frames of an old movie that had
been shot with a soft focus lens. He did not know it, but he
shared his visions of yesteryear with the man who had paused
to quietly enjoy the beauty around him. And the old man's
memories were beautiful, indeed. The elderly man had little
left to him but his memories, and those he cherished. He
stored them within easy reach; in his heart.
When loneliness emptied him, leaving him feeling hollow and
obsolete he could always pull out his treasured rememberings:
The day he wedded his beloved wife; The burbling giggle of
his infant granddaughter; Paying the last installment on the
mortgage for the house in which he and his wife raised their
three children; The devotion of the cat who had become his
constant companion, all those years, after his wife had
passed on; and the faraway days of his childhood. All gone
now...
He stood, slowly, painfully, to resume his walk. He pulled
himself up and rested a bit, with his weight on the cane.
And, then, something soft rubbed against his pants, twined
around his leg and then moved onto the other leg. The touch
had been so soft that the man could not have felt it. The
purring too tenuous to be heard he had not noticed. And yet
a smile worked its way onto his face crinkled his now
sparkling eyes. His head high, the man strode forward. A
breeze played at the cat's heels and blew a couple of rose
petals through his translucent body. The cat twitched his
tail once, then, the wind forgotten, the feline purred as he
pressed his head softly, again, to the man's thin leg as
four paws kept pace with his old friend.
She shouldn't feel as old as she did at 67. The woman
scanned the street, homes, yards, and flowers through a wet
haze. She had received a phone call from her daughter. Her
child had called to tell her the tests the doctor had
ordered earlier in the month had come back positive. Her
daughter had been diagnosed with cancer.
Striding quietly behind her He quickened His step to catch
up with her. She stopped, sobs shaking her body... and He
took another step. When she opened her eyes, He looked out,
and she saw the world around her through His sight. Through
her ears He listened, and she heard the life surrounding
her. She took a quick, deep inhalation, and a panorama of
scents filled her as He breathed with her. Fragrances she
had never smelled drifted up from flowers and plants, alive
with colors for which there were no names. The very air
around her felt like the finest silk against her skin.
A cool breeze lifted the hair from her forehead and caressed
her brow before traveling on down the walkway. He stepped
away from her and followed the path of the breeze.
She then gazed upward and smiled. Hope and faith renewed her
spirit. She turned slowly around, taking it all in. Nothing,
ever, would look the same again. She thought of her daughter
and strode through the
sun-dappled shade of the walkway.
The walkway that Jesus tends...
***
Copyright 2004 by Kathy Anne Harris
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"God fashioned the dog from sun drops."
? ? - KAH?
"Reading is the best form of transportation.
? ? - KAH
"Ageless...
Like the scent of rain
Like the drift of leaves on the wind
...Love is"
? ? - KAH
My website:
http://spirit-soul.com/ToShareWithYou.html
?
? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
May you be blessed today.
Bob Johnston
Editor / Publisher
To read archived stories, click on this link:?
http://archives.zinester.com/9516/2004?
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