She appeared in the doorway as if the wind had blown her onto my blank canvas all at once in full color. Soaked from rain’s song. Shaking her head and laughing wildly. She was unaware of her crackling impact on the still inside air. Surprisingly refreshing like a summer storm. Embracing Nature. Inspiring art.
Please don’t arrive as a tourist;
I’m not interested in a day use pass.
No overnight camping allowed;
I don’t care to be tomorrow’s trash.
Of course, I enjoy tropical vacations in exotic locations;
Yet, I prefer the finer things built to last.
A lifetime of quiet moments and intimate adventures;
With one bold affirmation, “You are my ride or die match.”
Yesterday, at SFO, while waiting for my daughter to clear customs, a man with a luggage cart stacked with clear-tape wrapped luggage, approached me and asked if he could use my phone to make a call to his wife. He showed me the handwritten number (I recognized it as a Bay Area phone number) written in the back of a small day planner. Perhaps it was the fact the number started with 526-, the same as the landline that my parents have had for 50 years, or perhaps it was his aged, but kind face; nevertheless, I dropped my “stranger danger,” and I dialed the number and handed him the phone. I could not understand a word they were saying but I recognized JOY. After a short exchange he hung up the phone, thanked me, and handing it back said tearfully, “I have just arrived from Pakistan!” “Well, welcome to America,” I replied. He asked me to please direct him to the exit. He practically skipped away – belying his age – his salwar kameez waving behind him.
A reminder that sometimes we simply want the same things.