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FishTalk (semi-regular blog)

honestly, who can blog every single day? 

September (part one)

9/11/2024

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Picture
I walk into Mocha Maya's from the back parking lot near Baker Pharmacy.  It is my habit to get a latte and now that I'm a regular (5/week) I feel they know me even though I do not linger. I typically take it to go. There are small conversations mostly about the weather. I feel comfortable that they know my drink, which seldom if ever varies. Occasionally I'll get a breakfast sandwich. Often the latte suffices, the bolt of milk protein and mix of espresso and foamy milk a treat for brain and senses alike. It all started with all the damn eye doctor appointments. I figured if I had to drive 45 minutes to Northampton, I'd give myself a treat (in my mind adding, damn it). Honestly, despite my tendency to be what I call, 'a dainty queen,' (meaning fussy about how things ought to be) I absolutely love drinking and eating in the car. I like being an exception to myself. Often now, since frequency has increased--the habit including non-appointment days, I return to the car and take it somewhere else to park. I look for a place. First, I try under the trees opposite the laundromat. The car faces the river, but you cannot see out there. It's blocked by trees. I choose a place where I feel alone even if I'm not entirely invisible. Recently, I've come to park along route 2 by a small graveyard. It started when the weather was still summer-like. I had been looking for shade to sit and sip and think about nothing much. I didn't realize until I had pulled up alongside a graveyard, that it was there at all, thinking it was just a rise of a field with trees along the edge. Today, I saw something along the base of a tree. I have one eye that does the lion's share of driving and looking. That eye saw these things like potatoes all in a group. I spent a long time looking at them and admiring the throng of them, funny little pale, tan things. I wondered what it would be like to be one of them hugging the base of a tree, clearly happy in their family state. Mostly I didn't actively think, which has gotten a bit out of fashion. We're all so overbooked and busy. I was (am) grateful for the opportunity to simply be. September is the best month to do that.

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    C. D. Finley

    Opinionated, wry, sometimes corny, observational humor mostly about writing, but you never know.

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