So, what's so special about a man and a woman holding hands?

"Make hay while the sun shines" confused me back when I was a kid.  Because, in the parts of India where I grew up or vacationed, the sun always shone, and mercilessly it seemed like.  Except for those few weeks of monsoon rains when everything everywhere was damp.  Damp enough that sometimes mold grew and mother would attack that with bleaching powder.

Language is cultural, and to make hay when the sun shines probably came from a culture where there were quite a few days, weeks even, when the sun practically disappeared.  That statement makes a lot more sense to me in my middle age here in Oregon.  It is such a pleasure when the sun comes out, especially in the spring.  Flowers everywhere, bees buzzing, people biking ... and me walking by the river to take advantage of the sunny spring day.

Even the birds were sunning themselves on the rocks!

I crossed the bridge to walk along the river's west bank.  A young couple walking hand-in-hand were laughing and talking.  There is a reason I write about them.

The young man was in jeans and a tight-fitting athletic short-sleeve shirt.  I am sure if I were as fit as him, with well developed muscles, I too would wear that kind of a tight fit.  But, the muscles I have are puny, and even those hurt some time that I have to go in for physical therapy!

The young woman on that guy's arm, well, to go with the image one might expect her to be in shorts or jeans and a t-shirt, and big sun glasses.  That seems to be the typical outfit for young women on the bike path.  But, she wasn't.  This young woman was wearing a black abaya over something colorful underneath that showed in the gap between her sneakers and the abaya.  And, she had a hijab also on.

A conservative outfit.  Yet, holding hands in the public?  In the traditional Hindu Brahmin context in which I grew up, this would be like the woman wearing the sari in the madisar style and walking about while holding her husband's hand.  Chi-chi, as my grandmother would say to dismiss such possibilities.

My great-grandmother wearing the sari in a madisar style

We passed each other.  Like young lovers, this couple was also lost to the world.  I could have picked the guy's pocket and he wouldn't have noticed.  Ah, to be young and to be in love!

As I continued walking, I remembered that once before I had spotted a young woman wearing a hijab and smoking a cigarette.  A few days ago, as I was heading to work early in the morning, I saw a woman in an abaya and sneakers and walking the brisk walk of an exercise walk.  I suppose there is a lot more to women in abayas and hijabs than what meets the eye.

It was one of those rare walks when I paused to take in the scenery.  I walked away from the concrete path towards the river.  The lack of normal levels of rain was the reason why the volume was much lower and I could walk in areas that would usually be accessible only late in the summer.  The gently flowing Willamette was clear over the rocks. Clear enough for me to notice the sunlight dancing on the ripples creating mesmerizing patterns on the dark stones.  Nature is beautiful, indeed.

As I looked around, to my left was a middle-aged couple a little bit away.  We were separated by the wild growth and I could see them through a gap in the greens.

It was, really, a good day to be out with another person.

I, the solitary man, kept going.  Why I know not..After all, there is nobody waiting for me.

But, we do what we have to do to make hay while the sun shines.