Evening Stroll

I heard thunder rumble. Far away. The sun was shining. Very bright for 7:30 in the evening. Almost like midday. But not as hot. Today was a scorcher. July in central Florida can be one hot, muggy hell.

But it was bearable at 7:3o and the thunder was maybe a false alarm so I decided to walk off dinner.

Not far though. Just to the end of my street and back. There’s this one stretch at the north end that looks more like a campground than suburbia. Thick with twisty old oaks whose limbs reach across the road, and lots of palmetto.  

In a front yard three houses down sat a big flatbed truck with long metal pipes strapped on, and a big gaping hole where grass used to be. Pope’s Well Drilling it said on the side of the truck. 

Not far into the walk I saw two birds fly across the road and into the trees. Hawks. Small, maybe kestrels. I could hear their calls. I stopped walking and scanned the trees, but no luck.

This end of the street is so pretty. A woman I used to know from a therapy group 20 years ago grew up on this street. So pretty, she said, especially on the north end. That was before I moved here.

She told us her mother committed suicide when she was a kid, on this very street. It left scars. She got married a few years into the group and had a baby, moved away.  She seemed happy last time I saw her. But I always wonder, when I pass by the houses at that end – was it this one? That one?

The thunder was getting closer and the sky turning stormy-purple to the east so I hurried home.

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About boomergirl47

Retired from the University of South Florida. Love reading, writing, hiking, nature, music, birding, puttering around the house and yard, doing things with my grandsons and spending time with my beau on his beautiful 22 acres in north central Florida.
This entry was posted in birds, death, emotions, fear, human interest, nature, poetry, psychology, relationships, sadness, spirituality. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Evening Stroll

  1. Sweet BG, you wove an eerie feeling with the changes of tone, industrial to nature, beauty, suicide and nicely finished with the storm 💙 . It’s subtle, just the right amount of information, and readers fill in the picture, can’t help but imagine…

    Like

  2. boomergirl47 says:

    Thanks, Steve. I was a little hesitant about the eerie part, but that’s really what inspired the post. A mixed bag kind of thing. Glad you enjoyed it.

    Liked by 1 person

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