Thoughts on life and death ...

The rains have finally arrived.

It was so wonderfully refreshing to walk by the river with a very light rain falling.  Naturally, I hummed and whistled:

It was mid-afternoon, and not many were on the path.  Two women came jogging from around the bend.  Then, suddenly, as if they switched to the first gear, they started walking.  It looked so odd.  But then, maybe odd is how I come across every single day!

A few minutes into the walk, the drizzle stopped.  Not many people on the path, however.  A loneliness that seemed so soothing.

I kept walking.  Now that the fences are gone, I decided to head back to my old and favorite loop.  I was glad to be back there--as if I was once again meeting my old friends. 

Two teenagers on low-rider bicycles caught my attention because they were being loud.  I mentally got on the alert.  There was something not right. 

Sure enough, as they neared me, the blond guy yelled something right next to my face as they biked past. I didn't catch any word, but his expressions were far from polite and friendly.  Perhaps it is a good thing that he was unintelligible.  

I wondered what would happen if I those teenagers had beaten me up right there. 

From there, my mind constructed other scenarios.  If I had a heart attack and died on the path.  Will the world miss me?  Who would miss me?  My neighbor died more than a month ago.  But, do I miss her?  No. Wherein lies the difference between my neighbor's death and mine?  How long do families miss their dead? 

I thought about my dog Congo, who died quite a few years ago.  About how I miss him even now.  There is no doubt in my mind that I would be ecstatic to have him back. 

Will people miss me as much as I miss Congo? 

Will there be anyone at all who will miss me even more than how much I miss Congo?

The loud sound of a truck emptying its load somewhere brought me back from those morbid conversations I had been having within.  Which is when I saw those two women. Again, they switched from jogging to walking.  It surely is different strokes for different folks!


Today, when I headed out on my walk, it was muggy.  I took my camera with me, hoping to capture the fall colors post-rain.  People were out and about.  Children were screaming with delight picking up leaves and throwing on each other.  One kid was practically rolling around on the fallen leaves.

Photos in plenty, I walked back home. 

In a few more days, I will probably start complaining about the dampness. And the cold. And the darkness.  For now, I will enjoy life.