Mist and memories on a short walking tour
Friday
Everything I try to do over the past days is steeped in my past, wherever I look…
Did three things at once all morning. The afternoon was more leisurely.
Prepared for adventure this morning not knowing if the afternoon would find me in St. Louis or at my stylist’s. It has been too long since I closed the outer door to my residence in the morning leaving for the day, not knowing what city(s) or events I would be experiencing before dark. I rather miss the excitement of possibilities, choices, once a regular feature of every day life, and now all too rare.
In the morning did my share catering lunch for a group of 30 beginning at 5:30 a.m., and during a very full morning somehow managed to be in two places at once more or less! Took the child after his morning activities to a park with a box full of fresh fruit and marinated vegetables for lunch. As it has been all morning it was raining lightly so we remain in the truck. As he played Nintendo I watched a usual-appearing yet remarkable bird of no known species as it eyed me from its perch only a few feet away. Many of its feathers look like fur. Perhaps it has some mockingbird in its ancestry. Mostly gray, but with long areas of black and white feathers, and an unusually long tail, unusually bold and intelligent. I wonder how would it feel kinesthetically to unfurl a sheath of tail feathers while landing, or spread them, using them to stabilize in in the wind midflight while dodging through branches of the pin oaks with their delicate catkins blooming in the light rain.
Surrendering truck and child to my spouse’s work place early in the afternoon I walked a few short blocks to the bus stop. As usual, went once stop too far, tempting fate. This resulted in a delightful stroll past what was George's Cheese and Sausage shop. So many changes since I first lived here! A Magyar Cypriot, he is the only Magyar speaker living in Kansas City I know and one of my very first new friends here. Stopped at his place for lunch frequently as possible, a bit homesick for more than authentic Hungarian food, and he always generously provided as a bonus a smiling spirit in some of my darkest hours and fascinating tales of long ago and far away, sometimes in English sometimes Hungarian, always delightful.
A charming misting of the air eased my passage across pavement, concrete and stone as they flanked places I had once frequented daily when I had worked as a goldsmith/designer in a jewelry store on the Plaza. Today at last I had time for Cancer Survivor Park, surrendering to the spirit of these unusual moments alone, unbusy, for touristizing. The contrast could not be greater between tiny, dilapidated old row houses stretched the wrong way, surely originals to the area, sturdy old brick surrounded by solid, sometimes ornamented hardwood weathered in places to nothing, the remaining splinters of wood painted impossibly brilliant colors in compensation, and battered window air-conditioning units like fungus fruiting outside their host, nestled, dwarfed, between parking garages for the most luxurious stores in the region surrounded by their far finer apartment - cousins towering over them all. The park itself was a formal, dedicated stretch of earth and information with symbolic weight imposed upon every element. Wisteria catkins and tendrils, and tender fresh maple leaves just unfurled, like the narcissi and daffodils prematurely wizened by inclement weather were visible in every flower bed, all highly cultivated specimens. The stately but more feral spirea buds were unfazed.
Walking uphill, another surprise. So much has changed along the street. With 20 minutes to spare, I was tempted into a new yarn shop, The Studio, which seemingly had everything: the most fashionable synthetics, hand tie-dyed yarns and alpaca/silk blends, even specialty yarns with ingredients like chitin and aloe vera incorporated. I restrained myself from purchasing turquoise, mercerized Egyptian cotton yarn only because I have no pattern for its use.
The many people along the journey were unfailingly kind but unobtrusive. The city buses have changed much, the schedules relatively frequent, and a new atmosphere among the drivers and those who ride, attracting a new clientele. I may have to take them again, just for sheer adventure, into the unfriendly driving zone of downtown to admire structures in the summer with a young architect!