Even longer ago, when I lived in NY and would walk around Manhattan, I liked the idea of “one second connections,” thought to name it that today.
I’ll glance around and see someone who catches my attention often in some way I feel I can relate to or admire in them. This afternoon I saw a woman walking and looking in my direction. I glanced her way with a slight smile, of course subtle, don’t want people to think I’m suggesting I know them or staring. She kind of came to a gradual stop a little distance away, appeared like lost in a momentary dream. I can relate to having appeared far away dreaming while out walking before. The man she was walking with put his arm around her and they walked on. I passed another woman who had perfect black hair; she began talking in an intense conversation with another woman in a language I didn’t recognize but sounded to me like Arabic or another Middle Eastern language.
We passed a man singing into a microphone in Spanish to fast-paced recorded trumpet music playing in the background and another man later on who was impressively playing the drums.
In the Boston Public Garden, a man walked by with a radio strapped to his chest and he was singing along loudly, noticeably, his mouth showing just one tooth. Just a moment later, the “opposite” experience happened as a woman walked by wheeling a shiny black cart. She didn’t look physically strained but as if the act of wheeling her very expensive looking purse through this garden was a very serious thing. I hid my face with my hands and lowered my head toward the side of the bench hiding a little laughter at these opposite views.
While walking, I was met with moments of serious marijuana smoke, trying not to get high but failing in the effort and was visibly spacey awhile after these passings.
We sat to eat dinner, there was no wait at this place but long ones at previous restaurants we’d passed. I felt there must be some catch coming, and then the food was delicious and didn’t take too long, so I realized I was wrong to think there was a catch, and then a pigeon flapped quickly above me and shat right on my pants. I immediately soaked my thigh in water and dabbed a wet wipe on me. I feel that pigeon planned to pick me ‘cause I’d been smiling and amused by it when it was walking all badass around the outdoor dining patio.
My husband and his cousin reminded me this was considered good luck, I could make a wish, so I did but I won’t name the wish of course, but I will say it was a wish I made for someone else.
Afterwards, we had Italian gelato ice cream from a vendor at Quincy Market, tasted like such high quality fresh ingredients. I got Pistachio which was a light golden color and had a bit of nut in it, a very natural, full flavor.
I found a graphic novel that stood out to me as I’ve yet to read one and this one had a little larger than I’d usually seen painted artwork rather than a comic look. It was marked as “literary” short stories. I got it and will write about it in a post when I read it.
Photos taken by my husband Dan at the Boston Harbor.
Watch this short video I took of the drummer guy playing for the street-side audience.