“The moon was so beautiful this morning at Jericho beach, you should’ve seen that…” The man, in his late sixties or so, had track pants on and a red rain jacket. I don’t know him but that is not important. We are the first customers in the neighborhood grocery store this morning.
“I saw the moon last night driving back from Squamish, it was very beautiful,” I tell him. He tells me about the old mining town in Squamish, and that his parents were Croatian, settled in BC way before he was born.
I wish I could’ve stayed and talk more because there is something so utterly fascinating about talking moon and simple joy with complete strangers but the morning rushes me on like a flood so I leave. Behind me I hear the man talking about the magnificent moon to the cashier. The cash register goes “ding” and the sound plops over the man’s words like a pillow.
Later on I go for a walk to the bank with my two newly appointed functional legs and I almost feel like stopping just about everyone passing by me just to tell them about my walking bliss. The sidewalk is oozing sunlight and I am wading through it up to my eyelids. Mornings like this remind me of simplicity and how uncomplicated gratefulness should be. The moon hides in the soft blue that’s spread all over like a blanket. After all it’s been up all night, no? Silly pun? Why, there’s some giggling joy in that too.
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