Where the Streets Have No Name

Tonight, we walked our usual three laps.

Lap 1:

“Look at that man’s beautiful walking stick! (walking past)  That is a beautiful walking stick!”

“Thank you. (smiling)”

“I wish I had asked him to take a picture of it.”

“Well, next time around, if he’s still here, I think I’ll ask.”

“You could do that.  If he’s still here…”

Lap 2:

“Do you mind if I take a picture of that walking stick?”

“Not at all.  I sure don’t walk much with it! (laughing)

walking stick

Just how many times are you gonna walk around this park anyway?”

“One more.  Three total.  Do you live in the neighborhood?”

“No, I live east of here, but my wife likes this park because she thinks that that brown dog needs more socializing.” (more laughter)

that brown dog

“Where did your stick come from?”

“I don’t know.  Someone brought it back home to me from their travels.  I’m not sure where it came from.”

(silence)

“Thank you for letting me take the photo.  Look at that.”

(showing photo on camera screen)

“Oh, beautiful.”

“Thank you for letting me take it.”

“Enjoy your last lap!” (more laughter)

the end of the last lap

the end of the last lap

U2 – Where The Streets Have No Name

I want to tear down the walls that hold me inside…

Be well, and at peace,

Phil



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