My Americana

Another exercise in free association writing…

With hot coffee and cup in hand I stepped out into the morning, moving from my front porch to the sidewalk. That’s where I sat down – mot jus’ anywhere, mind you – but right over the numbers that address my home.

The sun warmed my back and I sipped from my cup and thought, “Aside from the breeze, this is a glorious day.”

Minutes later I could see a woman and two dogs walking my way. She is young blonde, slightly over weight and tall, but nice looking.

With her are two labs, one black the other a yellow. The yellow is not tethered, trusted not to run off, smart, while the black lab is on a lead.

The yellow lab, true to her nature, comes over to me in a cautious manner to check me out: “Is he a threat,” she is assessing, “No, he smells okay and has good energy,” and returns to her human’s side.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” she asks.

“Wonderful,” I reply, “A great day to soak up some sun!”

The entire conversation in a nutshell. She proceeds up the street, turning to disappear at the next corner, either to continue her walk or to return home.

As she walks from sight, I see my neighbor driving towards me. I didn’t even notice that she had left.

With a big smile, she waves and wheels her car into the driveway, and once out says, “Had to go get the boys some milk for their breakfast.”

“I know how that goes,” I smile back.

Then she adds, “I’m taking half a day from work today so I can get started on our backyard.”

“Oh, cool,” I answer back, having forgotten that she’s been working from her house since the establishment of ‘social distancing,’ and such.

“Well, have a good day,” she says jus’ before disappearing inside, “And enjoy the sunshine!”

“Thank you. Will do,” I shout a second too late as her front door has already thumped closed.

“Morning,” I hear from across the street.

It’s my other neighbor. He’s putting out his American flag.

I holler back, “Good morning! How are you doing?”

“We’re doing great,” he returns, including his wife in his statement, as he walks back to his front door, “Have a good day.”

“You, too,” I call out as his screen door squeaks and the door itself, slaps shut.

I take the final swallow of coffee from my cup, concluding that this is a good point at which to retire back to my humble abode. Besides, my wife will be backs soon from her daily walk and I want more coffee before I sit down to write.