Weekend afternoons were the same if and when I don’t do some good walks to my grandparent’s house and this one just made some productive proof of its solace fun.
After a good rant-off from my mom, I decided to pass away that guilt feeling of putting so much hate on some petty thing by doing my usual afternoon walk, bathed in cold water since it has been raining come by morning only to stop by mid afternoon, clothed up and grab the rest of my phone as I switched to a recorded song I play like every day.
Gloomy, like always and there fewer people playing some good hoops, others just standing along some store waiting for the next gossip to spur out and a share of rattling vehicles going to and fro. I was no stranger to the path I take, even how I do change blocks whenever I go to my grandparents house only to end in the same curve up to their door step. One thing’s for sure, this isn’t any ordinary afternoon.
One thing caught my eye and of all, my mind. Power lines & the amicably positioned trees rowed in the same way those electric lines crawl through the entire subdivision. Like I said I was no stranger or is it just the entire feeling of having’ my emotions pour out with the abysmal weather makes these simple things become quite a fascination!?! And so I thought…
These power lines, solely connecting every dotted place on earth, the very soul of communication that many thought in some way a pester that infers the panoramic view of the sky yet we barely recognize the use of these cables stringing every single thing we need, from wired calls, instant text messages, computer connections and even the source of electricity. Contemplating… trying all hard to be all knowing for all of a sudden. I put out a laugh.
The perfectly rowed trees… I gestured, leaving that silly smile wounding through my face. I was not innocent how I used to climb them all, almost falling from them, carving some random thought from my mind & how I loved being on top of the highest branch fearing if I fall and at the same time loving the thrill of swaying with the wind. I was one with it. Now, I can barely look at them… amazed of how those grooves in its trunk were formed, naturally or by a bare man’s hand.
Slowly then, it took me all back another trip going home to do some more viewing on my intelligent victims and mooning over the idea of a good cold shower on the night to come. Good thing was… I arrived home before it rained.
