Yellow leaves slide underfoot as my body falls into a natural rhythm. I forgot how good this feels – walking in the rain as moisture trickles down my face.
I drink in the brilliance of foliage still clinging to trees and the tranquility of empty streets as night settles into the neighborhood. Villeray is an older section of the city where narrow staircases wind outside brick buildings, leading to flats on upper floors, and corner stores offer beer, cigarettes and a chance at this week’s lottery.
I just visited an 89-year-old aunt who survived two strokes and is almost blind. As we sat in her kitchen, a canary dozed in a cage. He has surpassed his normal life span and is also blind. When my aunt recovered from her strokes, the bird grew back all his feathers after a complete molt. Interesting, isn’t it, how the world can reflect our experiences?
I notice these connections more often these days.
After an argument with a friend, I hear a song on the air about the pain of breaking up. Or I leave the mall in frustration because of not finding what I need and a car suddenly careens around the bend and races down the street, tires screeching. It seems to echo my feelings.
I believe our outer reality often mirrors not only our experiences but our state of mind. It’s worth paying attention, even on a rainy night like this.