This is getting to be even more fun.
Who would have thought a little screened in porch could provide such a window on the world? We live out on the three-season porch unless they need us at Walgreen’s.
Every day, I get to watch this quirky neighborhood come to life.
God lives two doors down. At least it sounds like the voice God when the giant Mastiff barks. Deep. Throaty. But gentle. The dog is huge. Thankfully, it is also friendly. He is so well trained to hand signals and voice commands that the little nurse who owns him walks the dog without a leash. I don't risk that with our Dachshund.
Yesterday, a young boy came walking down the sidewalk playing a violin. He was leading nine or ten children to the park. Picturebook. We could hear him playing for a while. I don’t know Mozart from Bach, but the act itself was beautiful. His music still floats around the neighborhood.
This morning, the music took a different direction. While reading the newspaper, I felt something else sneak into my consciousness. Somebody was yodeling. Not Blue Grass stuff. This was pure Swiss. As the sound grew closer, I realized it was a happy guy whizzing by on a soundless bike. It was electric – both the moment and the bike.
Only minutes later, another of my “markers” rode by. For the past four years, I’ve watched this older guy bicycle past the porch twice a day. Likely, he is commuting to his job. He is always decked out in the proper equipment: helmet, gloves, yellow safety vest, and blinking red lights at dusk. The dude is old and skinny but tough. His is a steady, measured pace. And he rides rain or shine, ice or snow. Always alone. But now there’s something -- rather someone -- new. Three times this week, he’s had a woman riding alongside. I can hear them talking. Not the words, but the tone. Cheerful sounds. Makes me happy just to hear them go by.
I simply love it. Coffee at sun-up, classical music, walk the dog, read the newspapers.
Sit back and smile.