Bird Poop

This blog post almost didn’t get written.  First, because I locked myself out of my apartment, but then a kindly social worker had mercy on me and let me on the elevator with her.  Second, I started reading Pope Francis’ earnest new encyclical on climate change…It’s based on the integrated eco-spirituality of St. Francis, and I would sit and read all 184 pages today if I could!  But I digress.  Today I met a little boy named Jack with keen green eyes, wearing a Robot t-shirt and walking with his coffee-toting Dad.  Jack sat on the bench and asked his dad where the bird poop went.  “The rain probably washed it away,” Dad said.  “No, I flicked the poop off the bench,” I corrected him.  “Honey, if we walk by the bench enough times, we’ll probably see some more bird poop,” Dad said to console him.  Note: I debated whether to write about the large bird dropping when it showed right where I usually sit about a week ago, but I excluded it from my journal, not knowing that it was going to play an important part in the narrative development.  You never can tell.  Next, the boy turned his attention to me.  “Daddy, what is she making?”  Jack started every question with a rising Daddy?  “Sweety, why don’t you ask her? Dad said.  I explained about the project.  “Can you believe it? She’s knitting this rope all the way to the water!”  “YEAH!” Jack said without skipping a beat.  Oh the faith of a child.  “She’s knitting down, down, down, all the way to the water,” the Dad kept saying as they walked slowly up the hill.  So, that puts things in perspective.  My project took a back seat to some bird sh*t.

A helicopter thundered past me, coming and going.  The shadow of a crow criss-crossed diagonally over me.  The plump jogger passed by cheerfully bading me good morning.  The Happy Trails Dog Hiking Services Van drove by, windows tinted for the dogs’ privacy, I guess.  The young woman driving it waved.  The other Hiker on foot stopped to tell me that he’s going to start wearing his summer hat today, and he’s sure his relentless badgering of City Council is going to pay off soon in a dog leash law.  His beard is starting to grow back, scruffy and red.  A very sweaty young man asked me if I was knitting a garden hose.  The walking ladies passed me several times, saying hi on each lap.  Three motor boats zipped over the Bay, leaving frothy wakes like erasure marks.


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