I took my regular Sunday walk into town to get a cup of coffee at Gray Squirrel. The two-mile stroll, down the hill and back up into Carrboro, gives me time to think and plan and dream. I walk without music or headphones, and try to notice what I’m noticing along the way. Today the blue jays were most vocal.
On my way home, I waited for the signal at the Smith Level Road crosswalk near the elementary school. The light turned red, the walk sign went white, a Honda hybrid slowed to a stop, its engine went quiet. I began to cross the street, but then heard the rapid revolutions of tires getting louder. I paused in front of the Honda, looked up to see an approaching pickup truck, and waited for the drier to see my bright orange jacket and jolt to a stop before I continued to the other side.
I’m back in the house now, where it is still and calm and safe.
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