Summer Waning Strawberry Moon
Kate is home. She looks amazing, walking without the characteristic roll she had developed while favoring her right hip. We went to Lucias, site of our first date, and ate at their outdoor tables. Kate savored the wind, the freedom and “being on this side of the windows.” Doc Heller says 2 to 2 1/2 weeks and she should be able to walk without the walker.
While we had a snack at Lucias, a stead stream of young singles and young couples with children came by, strolling in their neighborhood. I realized I seldom see this many young adults. The MIA docents are an older crowds, the Woollies, too; only the Sierra Club, of the groups I see with any regularity has a mix of youth and older adults.
One of the younger couples that came by was a young man in scruffy jeans like I wore at his age and a woman in a print dress, black hair done up in tufts, Goth eye shadow and lip stick, smoking a cigarette and wearing Doc Martens. She was not happy with the parking ticket the laid back parking meter attendant had given her only a few minutes before.
Here’s another sign of the shift I’ve made from city boy to exurban man. The traffic, the crowds, the heat, the buildings felt too close, too vibrant, more energy than I could inhale. I look forward to breaking free of the urban heat island, the jockeying for position. Never used to feel that way. Now I like our little patch of land, the quiet here, our dogs.
