What a beautiful evening for a walk along the brook.
The air was clean and warm.
Melt water was dripping off one last overhanging bank of snow sending ripple rings downstream.
Two young boys passed on their bikes. The smallest one saying helloooooo with a smile.
A small bird flittered among the dead grasses of last summer, hunting nutrition.
When no one was looking I tossed sticks in the stream and reliving my youth chased them as they shot the rapids and awaited them at the mouths of corrugated culverts.
Across the brook, released college students raced across empty tennis courts. The loser required to provide a service to the winner. The guy who won, ran with a hungry smile, eager of the favour to come.
I passed a strongly perfumed, orange woman headed in the opposite direction. I smiled as I approached and she reached quickly into her jacket pocket. I said hi and she smile, probably deciding I was no threat after all. She pulled her hand from her pocket to leave her pepper spray there. Breezeless, the air was still. A minute later I could still detect the orange woman’s perfume hanging in the air.
I lost sight of my sticks.
Night closed in.