April 16, 2017

Detour.

I’m walking around a residential area of Chicago. The weather is decent this Easter morning; a lot of people are out walking. 

A woman is walking in front of me. She’s about 200 yards ahead of me. Farther up the sidewalk, a woman and her dog are headed toward us. The dog is average in size. Nothing menacing. The woman is on the larger size. She is overweight, larger than the average American. I despise the word “fat” and all its negative connotations, but she’s a big girl. 

The smaller girl in front of me walks into the street to avoid the larger woman and the dog. When past the pair she gets back on the sidewalk. The detour takes effort, jumping a puddle from last night’s storm, etc. There isn’t really a reason to make this detour; the dog is just doing its business and the sidewalk is plenty wide enough for all parties involved in the pass. Yet, the girl detours. 

Now, thinking about this. Maybe the girl is afraid of the dog. That is always a possibility and I shouldn’t be quick to jump to a negative conclusion. 

As she makes her way back to the sidewalk, the woman with the dog looks back at her with an incredibly sad face. In a split second my heart breaks. The dog is just doing its business and shows contentment. But the dog’s owner shows this split second of sadness. As I pass the two of them on the sidewalk I smile and say “good morning”. 

She looks down. 


Be kind to one another today. Be kind to one another everyday. Make it a habit. 

Walk.

I walked six miles this morning. Walking about the streets of Chicago is always relaxing to me. Once off the main thoroughfares I find it to be very quiet. I do love the neighborhoods that I’ve been exploring.


The trees and flowers are coming into bloom, about a month ahead of schedule when compared to home. I find this a little odd, since Chicago has a similar climate as we have at home, though we definitely get more snow.

I stopped and said hello to a cat, who apparently has a fan club that stops by everyday and she performs by climbing up a tree and then jumping over to the roof of her catio. A woman stopped by and filled me in on the details of this famous feline. We chatted for about 15 minutes.

That would never happen back home. People aren’t particularly chatty in the Northeast.

This fluffy black cat reminded me of Cinders, a fluffy black kitten machine I had as a teenager. She was a bit spastic and not as charismatic as this lovely cat but then again she didn’t have an audience other than the other cats. She was fine in her own way.

After 15 minutes of chatter I never did find out this cat’s name.


I feel very comfortable here in the Windy City. I’m looking forward to another morning walk tomorrow before going to the Cubs game.