Nurture your Nature

A walk home after dark

... as narrated by my computer:

Put on your scarf and black jacket, try to make the hood close with the velcro that won't stick.

Try again, till it is time to take off the scarf and try yet again. Put the scarf on the outside this time.

With a maroon band across your forehead, a maroon scarf across your nose and mouth, venture forth until the lenses of your glasses fog up. But don't worry. You know the way home. Take a right off of Broadway, head south to the bridge.

Slip only once as the pavement's not bare. Look over and under the glasses to avoid broken glass from a bottle in front of the cafe. Give greetings to the man who comes out to clean up the mess. Don't ask if it's wine. In the cold air, one can't smell, with fogged glasses one can't tell. Be glad you've avoided the trickle of wet that will soon freeze to black ice.

Cross Main Street in a fog, aware of the sign that signals that it's safe to enter the crosswalk. Say a prayer that the drivers you can't see can see you and will stop.

Stop at the theater, wipe the fog from the lenses. Lower the scarf to limit the fog. Get ready to cross over water. Know the railing may be cold but it's still there and the gloves on your hands are warm enough to grasp it.

Notice how the walkway is mottled with clumps of snow, now dirty, not too icy. The pavement's half bare. You have traction and feel confident until a car passing by honks a horn.

Forget you are passing over water half frozen, that to fall in it will freeze you, that to survive the fall means quick death in chill air. Forget the vertigo and the damaged nerves that jump at loud noises. Swear, say a curse; soft, so no one will hear. There is no one about that will hear. Hold the rail when two men approach from the other direction. Be glad when the other side looms through the fog.

Check twice when crossing on 3rd. Stopping on right turns is an option it seems. Cross the street where even through fog you can see you are home.
Slip again by the front doors and be glad you don't fall. Enter and stomp up the stairs.

Remove glasses so you can see, remove scarf so you can breathe, get the key and come in.

Throw the band off your head, toss the coat on the bed. Make a run to go pee.

Then run back to me to turn me on. Quick, go find your blog. Do an entry to capture the date. Note the time and the temp. -5 degrees. Don't believe it's that warm.

December 15, 2008: West Broadway from Zootown Brew down Higgins to west 3rd. Missoula, Montana

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