“To me, every hour of the day and night is an unspeakably perfect miracle.”

Yesterday it rained. My kitchen floor is filled with paw prints, pieces of dead leaves and a few errant pine cones. Most are compliments of Nala. Today is a cool spring day. The sky is cloudy but not so cloudy as to drown out the light. No rain is predicted. The high will be 60˚. My dance card is empty for the first time this week. I’m going to do around the house stuff, some cleaning and some laundry. Tomorrow I’m busy again. I’m heading to the big city, Hyannis.

When I was a kid, I was pretty fearless. Spiders never scared me. I watched snakes. I liked the way they slithered. The night was wondrous. I’d sit on the back steps in the dark and listen. I always thought I was hearing owls, but it was the cooing of mourning doves. Dogs barked. I could hear people talking and TV’s blaring through open windows and screen doors. I was always alone sitting in the dark with the night.

When I was in high school, I walked all over. I walked home at night. I loved those night walks home. It never occurred to me to be afraid. I always felt safe in my town. I could hear my footsteps echoing. The sidewalks were lit here and there from the lights coming from windows. Streetlights hanging over the road were bright circles on the asphalt. I never saw many cars. I remember the lit picture window in the front of my house. It invited me home.

The only places I have traveled alone are Morocco and Ghana. My family was a bit nervous about my going to Morocco. I laughed afterwards when they told me my brother-in-law, Rod, was the designated family member to go to Morocco to get me in case I ran into trouble. Every night in Marrakech I went to the Jemaa el-Fnaa, the huge square, for dinner. It was set up with tables and wagons. Colored light strands decorated the tops of the food stands. To me, all the food offerings looked the same from place to place so I’d find one which looked comfortable then I’d sit down, peruse the menu and order. I’d watch the meat cooking on grills and the vegetables being chopped. There was always a saucer with fresh crushed tomatoes and spices. I ate something different every night. As I was leaving, I’d stop at one of the wagons and buy some pastry for dessert. My final stop was an outdoor cafe for coffee. The walk home to my riad was through the narrow streets and alleyways of the old city. I loved those nights.

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4 Comments on ““To me, every hour of the day and night is an unspeakably perfect miracle.””

  1. Birgit Says:

    I’ve just checked the program of our free international festival that will finally take place again end of this month. Less African music this year but we’ll see a Moroccan-French band, nice music mix, sounds like fun and dance and party. I hope for sunny weather to enjoy music, poetry and food from different countries.

    • katry Says:

      Hi Birgit,
      That was amazing. I loved the instrument she was playing. The backdrop was beautiful and the projections were a brilliant idea. Thanks for this!!

  2. Bob Says:

    Hi Kat,

    Our heatwave continues with no rain insight. We may break 100° over the weekend. The average first triple digit day here is July first. Who says global warming is a hoax? The former village idiot, Donald J. trump. 🙁

    • katry Says:

      Hi Bob,
      We actually made it to 61˚ today, the warmest day so far. Tomorrow should be as warm.

      We have a fog warning until 8 AM. The ocean is still chilly, in the 40’s, so we have to put up with the fog when the days are warm.

      The village idiot should feel the heat in Florida. Last year he moved out of Florida for the summer. I suspect he’ll do the same again.

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