Tomorrow will be my first day at the new job, the
first real job I’ve worked at in a year. So today, naturally, I had to watch
both girls, at home since school’s inexplicably closed the day after the Memorial
Day holiday (they’ve actually had five days off in a row now). Since it’s my
final day as Official Caretaker, we did a lot of things: went out for a long
walk in the morning before the heat rose too oppressive; ran errands, such as a
sidetrips to Five Below and the pet store for hamster bedding; watched a cool
movie during the afternoon heat spike while eating sandwiches and chips; went
to the park so they could bang on the monkey bars and I could walk the paths in
meditative silence, reflecting on this crazy past year.
It was during my walk that I saw the walking shadow.
The path winds around a large pond, perhaps twice the
size of a football field, in the geometric center of my town. Meandering
through canopies of trees and vines, the path hugs the “coastline”, with the
fenced-in backyards of our more expensive homes the path’s other border. Every
thirty, forty, fifty feet is a small dock; not large enough to launch a boat
(there are no boats on the pond), but more for fishermen and bird watcher
types. I found a more secluded one, and stepped out to the edge and rested
against the sturdy wood beams.
The book in my hand was one on Shakespeare. Leafing
through the pages, I settled on a short excerpt from Macbeth:
Life’s
but a walking shadow, … It is a tale
Told
by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying
nothing.
Immediately after I read these lines I glanced out on
the pond, and saw the walking shadow. I had the presence of mind to pull out my
cell phone and ensnare the otherworldly visitor in a jpeg:
Then the sugary jingle of the ice cream truck wafted
through the brush. I knew my girls would be in Pavlovian overdrive. So, eyes
flitting between the mocking image in the water and the dancing follicles up
and down my arms, I reluctantly stepped off the dock to intercept them.
Fortunately my picture of the walking shadow sufficiently creeped out Little
One enough to make her – and, subsequently, Patch – forget all about Bomb Pops
and Chocolate Eclairs.
Still don’t know what it means. I’m betting, though,
it’s actually a good omen.
What a great little happening to end my Year of Exile!
WOW! It is a sign for sure! Good luck, Hopper!
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