The other night, walking from yoga to my car, a man stopped me on the sidewalk and sang Nat King Cole’s “Smile” to me. He dropped into a deep baritone, put his hand to his heart, then kept pushing his cart of groceries. In Norwalk we saw the guy who rides the big-wheeled bicycle — a penny-farthing — through the neighborhood like an 1860s performer, cap on head. Taking a walk at lunch I looked down the street toward an animal I couldn’t identify. It was a white peacock, shy but strutting, and I followed it into the scrubby yard of an empty house. Back at the office, the room buzzed with news of a colleague in the ICU after a head-on collision. I walked with her heavy in my heart. You never know what any day will bring.
January 7, 2015