A Song of Solitude
The sky an overcast gray, convinces my eyelids to droop once again, sleep until 10. The threat of rain wakens my knee, the ache a reminder of the years gone by. Finally, I wipe the sand from my eyes and stretch, rub my left knee out of habit, and wobble out of the bed toward the shower.
Some 30 minutes later I’m dressed with a splash of make-up to boot. Camera in hand, I forced myself out into the dreary day.
A Tuesday in the outskirts of Providence, RI, on a cloudy day. With my GPS pointed toward 10 Mile River, I was ready for an escape. An escape from people, from noise, from the reality of life.
I pulled in next to a Hawaii license plate, I shook my head to rid myself of the confusion and wandered toward the paved path in the distance. Phone now switched from Google Maps to Geocache, I began to hunt.
Bikers and runners alike are sporadically seen meandering along the path. The coordinates lead me down by the river, a foot path is etched into the greenery.
Camera out, I am distracted by the serenity. The world melts away, or rather I fade into the scene so seamlessly it’s as if I have disappeared. Slipped swiftly into the calm, melodic notes of the breeze through the trees.
A Swan nest is nestled against the bank, tree limbs shading it. In the distance, I see them floating, white specks upon a darkened sea. The curve of their neck, like the bottom swish of a treble clef, adds beautifully to the musicality.
A woodpecker sounds off nearly right above my head, and yet I cannot find him. My roving eyes are brought back to the Geocache and led over a foot bridge to a tree. Swarmed with bugs I frown and leave a note on the log: “unwilling to go through the swarm of gnats.”
Returning to the pavement, I turn back toward my car and breathe in the freshness surrounding me. Some days are meant for solitude.