Evening

The kindergarteners have a saying: "you don't know what you'll get so don't pitch a fit." It means something like "don't complain."

I didn't get to go for a walk this morning when the day was fresh. I didn't get to go for a walk this noon when the day was peppy. I didn't get to go for a walk mid-afternoon when the sun finally came out. I didn't get to go for a walk until the end of the day. But I know what kindergarteners know.

By the time I was out trailing my leash and my Person behind me, the birds were quieting down and the sun had mostly hidden itself. As we walked along river walk the sky blushed pink. I looked straight up and saw ducks flying swiftly to their evening rest. I looked straight out and saw the smallest bird nest ever, a leftover from last spring, in the branches of a tree I have walked by hundreds of times. I looked straight down the river bank and saw the quiet water as dark as tea that has steeped for ever so long. The pink began to steal from the sky as swiftly as it had appeared and I couldn't help feel bits of sadness mixed with bits of happiness and lots of quiet fill my heart.

My Person and I turned around then to walk home and the snow turned lavender gray and crunched under our feet and we both were glad we waited until the very end of the day to walk together.