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.

I swear I saw the sun when I woke up. Now it’s gone, replaced by clouds holding rain. The temperature is the usual for a raw spring day, 52˚. The wind has just started blowing. I need a better day, a prettier day, a day with sun. That won’t be tomorrow either so I’ll have to be patient until Thursday.

When I was a kid, everything was simple. Every weekday was the same: get up, get dressed in my school uniform, a blue skirt, white blouse and blue clip on western tie, eat breakfast, walk to school and then spend most of the day in class doing lessons except for lunch and recess. When I’d get home, the first thing I had to do was change into my play clothes. If the weather was good, I went out on my bike while other times I played with friends. I remember roller skating on the sidewalk with the old key skates. Sometimes we explored the woods and the swamp beyond the field below our houses. I never felt bored.

When I got older, boredom struck. In hindsight I think it and adolescence struck at the same time. Every weekday resembled every weekday when I was a kid. I got up, put on my school uniform, a pleated plaid skirt, a white blouse, a grey vest, nylons and black loafers, ate breakfast then walked to the bus stop. The bus went through two towns. I used the time to study. Most of the day was spent in class learning. The exception was lunch and standing outside for a little while in a paved area surrounded by a metal fence. When I got home, I changed into play clothes then sat at the kitchen table and did my homework. I was bored.

When I was in Ghana, most weekdays were the same. I got up, got dressed in a dress made with Ghanaian cloth, ate breakfast, the same breakfast every day, taught classes, ate lunch, the same lunch every day and then I’d spend the afternoon correcting papers or preparing lessons for the next day. I’d eat dinner, pretty much the same dinner every day, take my shower then read before bed. I always went to bed early. I never felt bored.