Walking Route for One who was Loved and Left Behind
I have rehearsed this route so many times that I could walk it blindfolded. I want it to be just perfect, so that just in case your work finally brings you here stateside and you drop by to visit, I could show it to you, and you will like it as much as I do.
It begins in a nondescript parking lot surrounded by apartment buildings; this is the first step. The late fall afternoon sun would be shining through the sidewalk tree's yellowing leaves. It's a mild slope up to the backstreet, then we make a left. I would point out a small brick apartment building, with its courtyard and a sculpture of Poseidon. A couple of people would be out, lounging, enjoying the cool afternoon breeze.
At the dead end there is an entrance to a park; it is a big wooded area that goes almost halfway around the hill. Behind the tennis court, there is a winding gravel path that takes us up to the second level of the park. For a moment we are surrounded by trees. Crows and gulls shriek the last gasps of autumn. Finally we reach a clearing, and a path that leads to a meadow.
A small gazebo has a bench for us to sit on momentarily. From this high up we have a fairly good view of the Sound. Maybe we should rest for a while, and watch life idly pass by; let the dogwalkers walk their dogs, or the sunbathers pretend they're getting tanner. But it's not long before we start walking again. We take the path up to the furthest walkable corner of the park. A fence separates us from the woodland that so densely covers the side of the hill. Looking down, one can imagine our forests back home. You ask me if I could follow you back; I silently turn away and move on.
We cross the street uphill to a residential area. Nearly covered by bushes is a concrete stairway leading up. Quaint little houses with quaint backyards surround us; at the top to our right, is a small wooden gingerbread cottage perched on the hillside. Through the glass of the front door, we see a wide living space with full picture windows. It feels slightly wrong, snooping in someone's house, but we can't help it, it's such a beautiful house, with a beautiful view.
Still we go further on, up a steep road. Close to the top is another small park. It overlooks the harbor and a neighboring hill. By this time the sun is just touching the snow-capped mountains to the west. There are a couple of people sitting on the cement benches. The Sound is most beautiful around this time; it's one of the rare clear and sunny days, and the waters shimmer in the late afternoon light. A gentle westerly breeze cools us. We stand, and your hand encapsulates mine in its warmth. I want to lean against your chest. I look up at your eyes, silent and gentle. No words are exchanged in this silent hour. In reality, I know an ocean half a world wide separates us, but for the moment, we are here, we are together. I know this will never happen again, so I treasure this future memory fondly.