Life, actually…
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LIVING WHILE STAYING ALIVE
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In the quiet pre-populated morning hours of this Down South neighborhood, a sole grocery-cart pilot rattles his descent.
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He steers downhill, relying on gravity and momentum to transport the cardboard-and-doodad-laden vehicle to the next street.
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The momentarily barren and foggy incline blends with his gray coat and gray helmet and the gray asphalt. He fades into the distance and becomes part of the landscape of the gray and muted-green village.
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I am his silent witness as I prepare to mount my metal steed and wend my way through morning errands. During this one second of time, no other member of my species is present. It is up to me to transcribe the existence of this rattletrap man so that there will be a record. A record of attention paid to a gossamer life
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A one-syllable dog barks his presence and is satisfied until the next bark.
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A neighborly neighbor materializes and beeps open trunk and door, loading schoolkids up for the rote journey. A green next-door scrub-suited med heads to work, silently nodding in my direction and receiving a return nod.
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There is just the right humid chill in the air. Not too warm, not too cool. Perfect for this miracle jiffy of activity.
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Just above me, a dispassionate cast-iron statue gazes east to the sunrise and prepares to warm its innards when new rays visit the pedestal beneath his sandals.
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I work my way around a humongous city-enforced plastic trash pail, check for leavings in the grass (dogtritus), click the doors of my dew-slicked car, and descend into its small man-capsule for a two-mile workaday journey toward commerce.
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NPR entertains me with news of the wretched and forlorn activities of nations and bully leaders, adds a dash of anecdotal humor to give me 2 1/2 seconds of hope, then re-enters the sausage machine for more, more…then asks for donations.
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I parallel park next to my parallel universe of a bookstore. I gather my sheaves and enter a daytime of bliss, a day of challenge, a day of opportunity, a day of variegated personalities and quirks.
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I have an aha! moment and realize that I am always safely at home wherever I go on this lonesome village-by-village planet.
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I realize that living within paradise requires examining carefully each passing blink…double-checking to make sure I don’t miss the pure, the simple, the beautiful, the inherent teeming lives that surround me.
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Living here is a privilege and a gift. It’s up to me to reciprocate and spread the message
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© Jim Reed 2023 A.D.