I was heading back from my usual walk up the hill when a white-haired, ponytailed woman wearing a baggy light blue shirt and shorts jogged toward me.
I walked over the sidewalk pushed up by tree roots. I hadn't really thought about the topography here or if bumpy was, indeed, interesting. But I felt happy, for some reason, that my "normal" was the jogger's "interesting." I walk the same walk every day and always see something new. But, at the same time, it seems, I am failing to see something old.
The day before, I nearly bumped into two people exiting the house where they and this iron lawn deer reside. One said, "If it doesn't rain, we can decorate George." I guess this is George. (Or Bumpy. Although I'm tempted to call him, "Mummy Deerest…")
Happy Halloween in advance!
"Interesting sidewalk up there!" she called as she passed.
"Oh yeah?" I asked.
"Bumpy," she replied.
I walked over the sidewalk pushed up by tree roots. I hadn't really thought about the topography here or if bumpy was, indeed, interesting. But I felt happy, for some reason, that my "normal" was the jogger's "interesting." I walk the same walk every day and always see something new. But, at the same time, it seems, I am failing to see something old.
The day before, I nearly bumped into two people exiting the house where they and this iron lawn deer reside. One said, "If it doesn't rain, we can decorate George." I guess this is George. (Or Bumpy. Although I'm tempted to call him, "Mummy Deerest…")
Happy Halloween in advance!
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