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Three Shore Mornings

Sometimes a walk is just a walk, but sometimes it becomes something else.

On a morning walk I come across a man in a wheelchair, covered in a blanket. As I pass he gazes up at me and mumbles, so I stop. It is in the high 30s at this hour and, although he is covered, he seems confused. He tells me he has no idea how he got there, he just woke up outside on the street, covered in a blanket. I ask if I can call someone for him and he says yes. The police. So I call the police and describe the situation...a man in a wheelchair, appears to be disoriented, does not seem to be injured. They ask for his personal information which I am able to get from him. His name is Eric, he is 40. They ask me to wait with him until they arrive and I do.  I recognize the young officer from a broken-store-window-event last year. "He has a warrant out of Sacramento," he tells me under his breath, "do you know him?" "No," I say, "he just asked me to call the police." "Well, you don't need to stick around then." And I am dismissed. "Good luck, Eric," I say as I turn away.

I have just stepped out of the apartment and have stopped to put in my ear buds. The neighborhood is quiet, dark and still. I am set to walk now, gaze to my left in the direction I will be going and in the black sky above the apartments across the street, a large shooting star falls straight down from the heavens. In its fall it brightens briefly to a bright white and then begins to disintegrate, smaller golden particles breaking away as it disappears behind the dark buildings. I expect to hear a splash or noise because it seemed to be falling directly into the ocean. I hurry out towards the beach but when I get to the corner, all signs of it were gone. I wasn't expecting to see anything, but maybe I was. I feel like the lone witness to something incredible. I look to see if there are any other souls out at that hour who may have seen it, but there are none. The shooting star was mine alone. 

It is the kind of shovel handle that has the perpendicular hand hold, like a snow shovel. The handle is there, in the movie on the screen, and it has a ribbon attached to it. The ribbon is being blown back because the shovel handle is moving. All you can see is the handle and ribbon and behind it, in the quickly approaching fore and background, snow and sky. I am mesmerized by this silent, moving, image. The screen is part of a TV in a storefront window on Second Street. The image sticks in my head, a metaphor perhaps, for my own foolhardy trajectory through life, a ride on the business end of a shovel, down a snowy hill, full of bumps and adventure, destination unknowable.

 

Tim Bulone is an ardent observer of life on the swirling blue marble. He creates fine art and canvas prints which he likes to sell from time to time at http://www.MyFamilyArt.com He is an early morning pedestrian in Belmont Shore, where he resides with his wife and a variety of seemingly intelligent pets.

This post is contributed by a community member. The views expressed in this blog are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of Patch Media Corporation. Everyone is welcome to submit a post to Patch. If you'd like to post a blog, go here to get started.

ROBERT E. FISHBACK February 01, 2013 at 08:17 PM
There was a certain feeling I remember when I was a little boy. Home from school, high fever...feeling so lousy. Bed side table had a glass of water, a straw. vicks, maybe a book that Daddy brought home from work. Fevers were odd sometimes, I recall hearing the kids playing outside..just home from school. They seemed so far away in their learning....what did I miss at achool..will I be able to catch up.? Sometimes at night I would wake up..my fever was up again, but there was something....so very comfortable between the sheets,,feeling so safe..sort of a la la land. Do you recall anything like that ? b
ROBERT E. FISHBACK February 05, 2013 at 03:06 PM
Good Morning, Tim. I wish to thank you for allowing me YOUR space for a time. I now relinquish your blog site back to its rightful owner.
ROBERT E. FISHBACK February 06, 2013 at 05:19 PM
Tim: I joined the diary thing you sent...I looked for T but nothing came up...No entries yet..thnks for the heads up on this site. B
ROBERT E. FISHBACK February 06, 2013 at 07:28 PM
Tim . must have hit wrong key when i entered my username...they have it as fiahbackrobert@gmail.com great word pictures in your posts....Bob
Squigglemom, Trish Tsoi-A-Sue June 20, 2013 at 10:25 AM
A couple of thoughts. LOVE the photo... A laser ray lighting up the sky. A hello to a passing Superhero? Also... I am indirectly reminded of the fellow we passed on our way home from 2nd street last night. My husband remarked: Did you see the homeless guy was talking into a can with an antenna? My response... Was he homeless? Perhaps it's a cool gadget.

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