Drop by drop the snow pack dies, watering the arid lands below. |
The wind is the hand of a giant attempting to push me back along to sidewalk, back into the street and into the path of oncoming traffic. Sometimes it pushes against my knees preventing me from moving forward toward the next corner or fire hydrant. I can see the yellow fire hydrant half a block ahead. It is my next goal in this long painful journey toward home. Why did I choose to go out today? When I left home, the wind was blowing, but not as hard as it is now. Ahead, I see a plastic trashcan blowing across the street. The wind is pushing it toward the corner where I have to turn. I watch as the trashcan stops against the curb. It is as if the thing is waiting for me to pass before moving onto the sidewalk. Finally, I pass the fire hydrant and advance toward the corner. I pass the oleander growing beside the hidden driveway. I have passed this driveway several times and always wondered what if the car parked there would back out as I was passing. Would the diver have time to stop before hitting me? However, today I focus on the corner and wonder if the plastic trashcan caught at the curb will hit me from the side. I know if the wind or the trashcan knocks me down, I will never be able to get up by myself. NOTE: I went to the bank yesterday and then walked back home from the bus stop in a strong and gusting wind. |