63 degrees and windy. Spring. iPod. Sunglasses. Time. A feast for the senses as I walk through the neighborhood.
What I learned:
It takes an hour to go about a mile if you stop and smell every flower.
Peonies have a riotous smell that brings tears to my eyes; I want my life to be like that flower smells.
Songs can feel like colors; Barbara Streisand’s voice is golden-salmon stucco. She nails “Can’t Help Lovin’ That Man of Mine.” Vivaldi’s “The Four Seasons” is bright blue. Paul Potts singing “Nessum Dorma” is like watching the sunset burst into purple and then end.
James Taylor singing about Richard Nixon is surprisingly sweet.
Dave Brubeck (DBQ) doing “The Duke” increases my pace.
Peace signs spray-painted on trees are actually pleasing.
Puppies on (probable) first walks are adorable; old dogs on (probable) last walks are poignant, their owners even more so.
Carly Simon knows some narcissists.
The Story song, “Fatso,” is the world’s best diet song. Actually it might be the world’s only diet song. Download it immediately and laugh.
Dr. Seuss is secretly in the landscape business in my neighborhood (or God consulted with him).
Nannies are T-I-R-E-D by 5:00. Mothers are too. Children are too. Everybody would be less tired if the kids were playing in the street instead of driving to tae kwon do. As an older mother, I can tell you that playing in the street is a more useful skill later in life.
I still remember the day my friend Ryan told me about the invention of the iPod. I didn’t believe him that I’d be able to walk anywhere and take all my music along, and walks on 63 degree spring days are the best thing ever.