On A Ship. (A Moment)

Miles and miles around–as far as the eye can see–there is nothing but blue and white. I always read in books about the marriage between the sky and the sea, but I never understood how it looked until now, for I cannot differentiate between the two spheres. They kiss on a foggy horizon where both fade into a grayish blue.

(*I had an idea long ago to record moments of my favorite places and activities. I am starting this “series” off solo, but eventually would love to feature other people’s moments as well. I think it is a fun way of seeing things from another person’s unique perspective!)

Queens (A Moment)

I am sitting on a rough, wooden bench that faces the street; on the opposite side, facing the
sidewalk, is another bench where an old couple is sitting and conversing loudly in Italian. The
sun is beating down on my back and a warm breeze is blowing, causing the tree beside me to
rustle. A crumpled newspaper scuttles off the sidewalk and into the oncoming traffic. Across
the street, among the line of parked cars, is an old white ice cream truck. No one is in line for
its treats because people are busy walking single-mindedly into the CVS Pharmacy, or admiring
the sunglasses of the street vendor, or getting their caffeine fix from Starbucks Coffee. There is
a hint of fresh pizza and laundry detergent in the air. On the far corner of the opposite side of
the street is the Pizza Palace, which advertises its fresh oven-baked pizza. Behind me is an old
laundry mat that has two big glass windows through which I can see four rows of washers and
driers; lining the inside of the windows are white, plastic lawn chairs where people can sit and
wait while their clothes go through each cycle. Outside is an elderly man smoking a cigarette.
He is watching a woman in a black burqa walk down the sidewalk. An elderly woman pushing a
buggy blocks my view as she sits next to the Italian couple. I turn back around, facing the street,
and I notice a pigeon pecking at the ground for food. When he sees me, he cocks his head and
stares. The sun is setting behind the buildings around me. Across the street, the liquor store sign
is flickering on as it prepares for its nightly customers. I notice a distant whizzing sound and see
some kid on a bike racing down the sidewalk, aiming his wheel at the pigeon. The poor bird flies
away just in time as the kid hops off the curb and cycles quickly down the street out of sight. I
hope he gets home before dark.

(*I had an idea long ago to record moments of my favorite places and activities. I am starting this “series” off solo, but eventually would love to feature other people’s moments as well. I think it is a fun way of seeing things from another person’s unique perspective!)

Contra (A Moment)

The music begins and I look into his eyes. I don’t know him personally, but I know that he’s here for the same reason I am: to dance. The rhythm of banjo flows into my ears and down to my feet. For three minutes, my partner and I are the only people in the room. My dress flies higher and higher as I twirl around the room, adding my own steps to the caller’s instructions. The music ends. A rising murmur of voices thank their partners for the dance, just as I do mine. I think to myself how much I love contra dancing as I accept another offer to dance. The music begins and I look into his eyes.

(*I had an idea long ago to record moments of my favorite places and activities. I am starting this “series” off solo, but eventually would love to feature other people’s moments as well. I think it is a fun way of seeing things from another person’s unique perspective!)