(Sometimes after I'm done with work I like to walk through neighborhoods or parks and think and observe. It's like a form of meditation for me, a way for my mind to wander or be still)
I walked through my neighborhood last week after work, trying to gather my thoughts. The day was mild with the slight chill of the ocean breeze. Simultaneously, I felt the delicious warmth of the sun and then the cold wind brushing along my skin. The sky was an endless blue, with patches of gray clouds interrupting the continuity. There were no passerby; no skaters or surfers or people walking their dogs that day. There was just me. I relished the solitude. A long stretch of sidewalk greeted me and I walked along it, looking at the beach front houses and into the windows of some. Living rooms were decked out in nautical designs, shells and sand colored sofas; stripes and the sails decorated some walls. In the yard of one house, I spied a life float. In another I noticed a tiki bar, complete with torches and bamboo chairs. Everything felt colorful and pale at the same time when I looked through those windows. It was like looking at display houses, ones that have never been lived in. There were no signs of life, no pillow out of place, no tiny sock, signifying that a child lived there, nothing. There was just the decor, sterile and lifeless. I looked away. It was pretty, but that was all.
A sparrow landed in front of me and picked up a bundle of dried grass in its mouth before flying away. I tried to see where it went but it had flown away too fast. I looked at the spot where it had been, tiny shreds of grass were still on the ground. I stepped over it, as if it were a bad luck crack in the floor or a fragile object I didn't want to break and walked on. I turned the corner and heard a wind chime churning its music into the empty air. It gave a haunted feel to the block I walked on. There was energy in the wind chime's music and magic too. But the magic felt melancholy, as if no real miracles could be cast, just shoddy illusions. The music in the air sounded like a lament, an apology.
Here, little trees lined the edge of the sidewalk. White blossoms covered the branches, some of the petals falling to the ground like snowflakes. In one of the trees a bright yellow bird flitted from branch to branch. I stopped and watched its quick movements. It stopped and regarded me before once again jumping from branch to branch. I wondered if it was someone's escaped canary but I wasn't sure. Besides, it seemed happy in its den of flowers, that was a much better cage than one made of metal anyway.
My feet took me where it wanted to go and I let them. My eyes wandered but didn't really focus on anything. Then I noticed the beach before me and walked across the street. I walked onto the boardwalk and then down into the sand, slipping off my shoes with jerky movements as I tried not to fall. The sand was warm from the sun and soft under my toes. I walked to the shore and put my shoes and bag down. I stared at water as it rushed to the shore, inches away from my toes before pulling back as if it had thought better of touching me. The crashing sound of waves tumbling to shore always relaxed me. I walked parallel to the water, picking up pretty shells and stones. I thought of happy memories that I've had of being by the water. The waves crawled to shore and reached my ankles, its cold embrace made me pull back, laughing.
Sunset was sharpening itself along the sky, trailing pink and orange ribbons in the bright sheet of blue. I saw the building turn to silhouettes and marveled at how beautiful this time of day was. There were barely any people at the beach but that was no surprise, the weather was getting chillier and the wind was picking up. I walked over to one of the jetties lining the beach and sat on one of the rocks. I let my feet dig into the sand while the wind stirred up little grains that mingled in the wind. I felt the sand clinging to my arms and face and hair. It stuck to my lips as if I've been kissed by poseidon. I knew it was time to go. Walking back I could smell the salt of the water. I had taken a few shells and rocks and stuck them in my pocket. They clattered gently as I walked. I slipped back on my shoes, ignoring the fact that there would be sand in them and headed home. Suddenly I felt tired, as if I had walked miles instead of a few blocks. All I wanted to do at that moment was sleep, but I was happy for the walk and for the small things I noticed on the way. The sun was setting and the wind was getting colder, sharper. By the time I reached my house I could hear the wind howling. I set my stones down on the table, my sand filled shoes by the door and went to relax.
