Tuesday, May 2, 2017

At random, if it ever is


There were eight sleeping bags at the east side of the J.C. Penney building early this morning, each inhabited by a sleeping homeless person. And there were others beside other buildings, where sidewalk meets wall, there in the quiet downtown dawn. Light by light, I motored on, through the haze and on to the errands I had, and still have, to run.... The other day, my wife and I were remembering the smell of the freshly mowed grass of the school grounds where we grew up in the San Joaquin Valley.... the same intoxicating scent we both noticed at the cemetery when we were there for my mother’s funeral in 2013.... and I mowed our lawns again yesterday: they were a foot tall. The old push mower came through again. I did the work a section at a time — a section being 640 acres — then raked each section, then mowed it a second time, and in some cases a third and a fourth. I was soaked to the skin. I’m in pretty good shape for the shape I’m in. I’d just finished when the mailman brought the big box containing a set of books by Sidney Lanier.... he said he’d mowed his yard too, and found a boat. I think I heard him correctly. Or maybe he said goat....



4 comments:

Jonathan Chant said...

Love this.

William Michaelian said...

Life is a dream. Thank you, Jonathan.

Jan said...

It reads beautifully William... I wanted to read on.
It is remarkable how you take a day in your life and made me feel as though I was in the car with you. I watched you mow the lawn and receive your precious package.

What will we be doing tomorrow I wonder~

William Michaelian said...

Well, we’ll let that take care of itself, and then, when it’s today, we’ll know. In fact, what else is there? Thank you, Jan.