work in progress working process

We travel to places where broken, grassy sidewalks run alongside poorly paved streets and no one is home. I walk the streets knowing that I'll visit them again and again in future dreams. I always do. These are the places that fill the space between the bigger cities and the cracks between yesterday and tomorrow.

I tried to befriend my neighbor several times before accepting that she was either terribly shy or did not like me. She would hustle her children away from wherever August and I would be and I didn't know why. Maybe she didn't want us speaking to them or thought they were bothering us. They were always wanting to tell us about their new discoveries or show us cartwheels or skate board tricks.  They were open, friendly and sparkled. I would tell their mother that they were fine, no need to rush off. I liked her and I liked hearing her children's voices when they played outside all day. I thought she was a great mother, her children, ages nine through eleven, were beautiful, healthy, had lots of energy and imagination. What left the biggest impression was that they enjoyed being with their mom, always begging her to join in anything they did.

August and I would sit outside, watching all the insects the clover would attract, existing beside the neighbors with occasional words, glances and smiles. One afternoon when my neighbor was close enough to speak too, I told her what I thought of her. I couldn't contain my admiration. She looked down and cracked a smile and said thank you.

A few days before we left, I told her we'd be moving on. She said she enjoyed having us next door. She looked at me and told me how long she had been married, how each of her children came into the world and other things about herself and her family. Seminole, it's streets, my neighbor they are all coming into focus the further away I get. I don't know where we will be living next or for how long. There is little adventure in the familiar, the comfortable, the easy. What I do know is I am undergoing something quite profound.