Not To Be a Homing Pigeon

It suits me.  Little gates, with wrought-iron fences. Sidewalks following my neighborhood, block after block.  Each new season I like to explore new diversions.  I miss many of them by taking the same routes, like a homing pigeon.  

A Picture Doesn't Capture These
(They looks so touchable and soft, especially blowing in the wind)

Having a date with Sonya and Matt for coffee and cinnimon rolls, on Sunday, I walked an entirely new path in my neighborhood, to get there.  I had some sweet surprises.

By surprises I mean things that make me take notice and usually make me smile.  If you are a reader of my blog, you know I love to search for “things”, hunt for treasures and be a “Noticer”. 

I inherited the gene, I’m pretty sure.  Mom can’t wait to look for rocks.  When she’s in Florida she can spend hours looking for shells.  She also used to take some of us to a small abandoned dump and we’d dig.  We dug for treasures.  Mostly antique bottles.  We found them, too. Once I even dug up the bottom part of a brass bell,  probably once used in a classroom. My dad use to take us to the local dump to find things and he took many of us kids scuba diving, to search for treasures. (the things he has in his workshop is a treasure hunt in itself, like an old hardware store.) 

A Little Surprise, in my Apartment, I Found at a Resale Store

Raised with nine siblings kept me alert for details, too, for so, SO many reasons.  But, I think my 34 years of teaching young children embedded my instinct to notice details.  I taught the little critters, in all subjects, to notice detail.  To be an explorer, reach out and grab the unnoticed. 

This Blue Pail Looked Like it Was Screaming,
"Fill me up!!  Please?"

Many things I didn’t snap a picture of, on my walk.  I didn’t have my camera (ARGH!!), I just had my phone.  But meeting people, when I’m wandering, can’t be pictured anyway.  

The woman walking her little old dog, who was so shy he wouldn’t move until I passed.  The woman thanked me when I stepped out to the road so they could continue.  She thanked me.  When the little pooch heard her tone of voice, he walked up to me and wanted to greet me, too.

The Morning Light Making Interesting Shadows

The woman with her child, looking at books, in a little library box.  I asked if I could snap a picture of her darling, piggy-tailed, red-headed daughter. She didn’t hesitate to say yes.  The little girl looked at her mom and then continued to look at the books, while I took her picture.  When I told the woman how cool it was these boxes existed, she said she was going to come back and put some books in there for others.

Not Only a Book-Box!
(But two benches-one for children, one for adults)

The woman whose wrought-iron fence, I was snapping a picture of, came around the corner and said, “Hi”.  I told her I loved that she decoreated the fence.  She said, “I do it for Cynthia.”   She proudly smiled.  I said, “Is that your daughter?”  She said, “No, she’s my friend.” 

All the chance meeting of people are valueable to me.  Nothing in books can help me learn like people can. 

Maybe that’s why I like to put surprises out along my neighborhood.  Little plastic figurines I find at resale shops, little stones with quotes on them, little treasures I hope a child or an adult-wanderer finds. Hoping they’ll get a feeling of the unexpected and continue to walk the neighborhood, alone or with their pet or child, or loved one.  I’ll never know if the person who passes me on my wandering, has a little rock in their pocket that says, “Life is bumpy”.