Sun, quiet, action

It's been a better day.

I met a friend (an ice cream scoopin' friend) for breakfast at a diner in Allston. I told him of my amazing plans for the day, since today is a perfect day for a "JoBiv Really Does Live in Boston" walk. He had chores to do and scampered off, possibly intimidated by my genius.

So off I went. I got on the train, got off at Government Center, walked down the steps, through Quincy Market to the Long Wharf. I was concentrating hard on my thoughts - mostly, "JoBiv, you should be making phone calls and finding a job" type thoughts - when a man in a uniform jacket with a laminated ID solicited me for a donation to help the homeless. I honestly didn't know if he really had anything to do with passing out blankets to homeless people, but I thought, just suppose I give him money and it does help. That would be lovely.

As I dug in my purse, he continued his rapid-fire schpiel, interrupting himself to say, "How are ya today?"

"I'm doing well. It's a beautiful day."

"Yeah it is. So why aren't ya smilin'?"

I wasn't aware that I wasn't smiling, but just then I could feel how much effort it would take to relax the furrow of my brows. Too much effort.

"I guess I'm tired," I said.

"Well you keep walkin', you'll hit sunlight." He gestured behind him, toward the end of the wharf.

"That's my plan."

"You from Boston?" The answer should have been obvious, considering I made eye contact with him in the first place.

"No, but I've been living here..."

"Where you from?"

"Rochester--"

"OH, so you KNOW we're in for it! Enjoy the sun while it lasts!"

Chuckle chuckle.

I continued down the wharf, as planned and instructed, took a picture for a lone tourista, then grabbed the big square cornerstone that catches the most sun. I sat. I watched planes take off. I squinted into the sky to watch gulls catch crumbs thrown by a man in a sateen Pats jacket. I watched the weird brown/blue undulations of the water shouldering up to the stones of the wharf.

I felt the sun warm my right shoulder, my cheek, my thigh. I tried to pay attention to my skin. "This is your skin," I thought. "Only you are feeling what this skin feels right now."

Some kids showed up with skateboards. I watched them for a while. They wrestled with a big orange divider until they had it on its side, then practiced jumping onto it, using its slope as a ramp. Their energy gave me energy.

Well, the sun did, too. The sun and the water and the planes taking off and landing... they could lull you or spark you into action. I chose action.