Aging gives me an opportunity to slow down and appreciate tiny pieces of landscape.
There is an old white house a block off Main Street in Carson City. Many years ago, a sidewalk was put in that extends from one end of the property to the other. I decided to study one block of that sidewalk and observe all that I could.
I first noticed a small handprint in one corner. I’ll bet a neighborhood boy, way back when the cement was still damp, could not resist the temptation to be remembered forever. More recently, blue chalk was applied right in the middle of the square block. It might have been from a hopscotch competition, but many rains had faded its original purpose.
The final remains of a pink wad of chewing gum was coming up from one of the sidewalk cracks. My guess was that most of it had already been stuck on shoe soles of unsuspecting pedestrians.
There was live action too. Seven red ants were marching from the sandy side of the walk to the green blades of grass on the other side. The last ant was attempting to haul a twig three times its size. He or she was amazingly strong and determined.
A well-dressed man in a hurry stared at me as he briskly walked by. I think he thought I was a little wacky.
I may be, but I didn’t tell him all he was missing.