the Jitters

At the start of this*, I was walking what felt like miles every day. Wandering, moving, trying to get rid of the jittery feeling of so many unknowns. After a spring and summer focused on navigating a household refilled with now-adult children as well as hours upon hours of teaching myself how to do my job virtually and, then, with a team of coworkers, developing that knowledge into a way my entire department can do so....well, the jitters are back.  Compounded.  The summer was about quarantine, maintaining provisions, staying away (as best we could) from this virus, and lots of creative work that will now get implemented (as best we can).  But the virus is still there.

I became proficient at racing the bullet bike as Toadette (or as I affectionately refer to her, Pink Mushroom Head) this summer.  I might hazard to say that, for my age, I am a-okay - consistently finishing in the top five when the settings are, as I am told, set for an "average gamer in 2007."  Huh.  So, in a virtual world, I am now  chill at dodging bananas, shells (well, not the blue ones), and generally not careening off precipices when I use a power-up.  So, I'm feeling shakily confident in my technical prowess.  But the virus is still there.

So, I went walking.  This is what I saw.

i spent a lot of time

looking UP

~

perhaps because the vastness

of the sky

is like a familiar blanket

and, like other walks in the neighborhood,

i admired other peoples' gardens

i'm always intrigued by imprints left behind ~

especially those that appear accidental

or, at least, unintentional

(like raccoon prints in the mud at a river bank)

this left boot sank deep!

i'm unsure of what calamity befell this mailbox ~

apart from underfunding, that is.

when you venture out 

to where other humans gather,

your steps are color-coded now

i walked before the stores opened;

and there are some that will never open again.

and, everywhere, signs

for the rules to follow

homemade signs

for rules that kept changing

i wonder if these boot prints

were pre- or post-installation

most of my walking during the past five months

(has it really been five months!?!)

is in nature, which has remained unchanged 

except by the seasons

~

and that has been a true solace

but, also, deceptive

~

because our [human] world

has changed forever

are they wrapping up a comrade or a foe?

teamwork, either way!

they completely ignored me,

intent on their goal.

some day, long from now, this pandemic

will be something only a few of us remember.

~

and then it will be none,

as is the way with history.

we felt the ground shake

when the building came down

where this sculpture once stood

~

now it's in a circle of rosebushes

near a fancy restaurant

at an intersection

few people pass on foot

~

some day

they'll decide that it's an odd place

for a rose garden

* this being the global pandemic and subsequent shelter-in-place, 

quarantine pod life....

promenade feat. butterflies

we dilly-dallied at Gateway Gardens

(on the east side of town)

admiring summer flowers,

following a maze with enough turns

to make us both a wee bit dizzy,

and skirting around families

taking high school graduation photos

as well as others with children

still of an age to seek out

every single attainable garden wall,

hand held or not,

and march its length.

we placed our brunch order

at Chez Genese on South Elm

and sat on a butterfly bench in the sunshine

~ ~ ~

waiting for curbside pickup

~ ~ ~

contemplating the nearby protest art,

the weight of which is experienced

every day

every hour

every minute

ticking seconds on an internal clock

by people of color

t h i n k

where are my hands

hood down, pants up, music soft, smile on,

receipt in hand, purchase in bag

where are my hands

t h i n k

Chez Genese ^^^

Elsewhere (my other favorite place)

the murals continue to evolve

along Elm Street

hopefully we all will, too

Elm Street, Greensboro, 6 June 2020