Left instead of right

This time of year reminds me of travelling, of train stations, and carting around bread and cheese in my back pack and sun drenched moments sitting on the edge of forests and rivers and city parks. The combination of blue skies, wood smoke and diesel take me back to a stoop in Istanbul, a fruit vendor in Delhi and a canteen in Budapest.

Yesterday, in my own city, without a passport, that feeling suffused the air.

I was walking downtown on an errand and that wood smoke laced crisp air sent me on a different route than usual. I went left instead of right, up the hill, instead of down. I took the next street over when I usually never do.

I ended up seeing the city through new eyes and the food trucks and market vendors could have been anywhere.

I walked through the train station and I could have been going somewhere.

I came home having travelled somewhere.

Comments

I entered August without you.

I won't visit you this month. You won't call. I will raid your garden and you won't get any of the vegetables. I will make plans without telling you about them. We'll go to the store and not buy you one single thing. Whole books will be read and I will not tell you which ones. I will watch movies and not inform you. The nasturiums will ripen. Last month was different. I changed my schedule and took time off work to be with you. I dropped all kinds of plans for us to be together. You sent me messages, I received them. I picked up food that I thought you would like at the store and sent you pictures of every beautiful thing I saw. I sang with you. We watched the Great Canadian Baking Show. You chose the recipe for the garlic scape pesto and gave me instructions for making the gooseberry jam. I am in August without you. You are in July.

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