Pine Scent...

In the early hours of the morning, it rained lightly, just enough to leave the Earth feeling refreshed and cleansed. In the trees, there are bluebirds, and finches caring for their young, protectively, as the red hawks ride the currents in the sky.

Today's walk is that of solitude and peace. The gentle sounds of Nature are healing in note. Life is gift. I walk quietly, gently placing my sandal covered feet, one in front of the other. I see neighbors from the lane, strolling with the use of walker or cane. I nod my head, and smile.

The hill urges me upward. From the top, I see a panoramic vista, tree-covered hills, and green as far as the sun. I stand in stillness, watching. Breathing in. Breathing out. The feral cats roll in the grass. I continue walking.

Sometimes, I feel as if I can almost smell the Sea. People say it is the Delta Breeze that brings in the smell of the open water. I breathe in, and remember wild, untamed waves.

One of my neighbors is waving at me from across the way. I start back down the hill toward her. She is in her nineties. Recently, she was in hospital. Her son, anguished, did all he could to save her. The best doctors, the best medical care. No expense was spared. He even moved her to a convalescent home. But, she was miserable, as she missed her friends on the lane. Reluctantly, her son moved her back. Surrounded by familiar people and landscape, she is once again thriving. So, when she waved at me, I made my way as quickly as I could to her side. She sat in the shade on her walker's built in seat. I sat in the sunlight, on the grass, looking up into her eyes as she spoke of her childhood Chicago, and her beloved husband who died after the war.

Her voice was that of one, who preparing for a long voyage, stops long enough to impart last minute wisdom. I listened, transfixed.

"Would you like to go to Chicago?" I asked. "Oh, no. I can't travel." She said.

"We could go by train. And you could show me Chicago." I said. "Now, that's a city!" She said cheerfully. "Would you like to go back, just for a visit. I would go with you." I repeated, sincerely.

She touched the upper part of my hand, tentatively, timidly, lovingly.

"Would you like to go to Chicago?" She asked. "Only with you." I said.

We sat listening to birds calling out to one another. My neighbor's breathing became labored. "Should we return home?" I asked, knowing she relied on her oxygen tank to ease the struggle in her lungs. We walked down the lane to her door. "Look!" She pointed to a poster of the Windy City skyline. "My eldest son has a matching photograph hanging by his door in his fancy downtown Chicago apartment."

"So, when you both look at it, you are connected." I said. "Yea, something like that, kid." She patted my head, and ruffled my hair. "Go get a haircut!" She laughed. We both said good-bye, as I continued walking.

In all fairness, dear reader, my hair has grown quite long and grey. And, I do need a haircut. I walked into the Old Wood forest, and smiled.