Walking

My husband and I share a car, which means I walk whenever possible. The other day I walked up Manila Avenue near my home in Oakland. I expected it to be the usual walk of a few blocks to the library on College Avenue - nothing special, hot and boring. I was wrong.

Here's what happens if I use an artists' eye and really notice what's around me. Here's what happens if I allow myself to slow down and appreciate what I see, as in "Gratitude." I walked under a maple tree whose branches were quite low, almost brushing the top of my head. By some good luck I happened to glance up a bit, and there, hidden among the maple leaves that looked like upside down Christmas trees was a tiny, tiny wooden bird house. I mean S-M-A-L-L. No bird could ever squeeze into the teeny hole above the one-inch perch. Hung from a thin branch by an old brown string, the house shone with randomly spaced shiny stick-on jewels: red, green, blue, gold. The crayon drawings on each side reminded me of the scribbles my two sons drew at the age of one or two years old, and yet they had a purposeful air about them, as if a child had planned them carefully, tongue between teeth. The bird house hung there as if in a magic forest, shimmering with hope. I stood and watched it for ten minutes, amazed.

Nothing better could make my day, I thought, as I walked on. But a block further I happened to look down to my right and was surprised again. Scattered on a torn up bit of dirt and grass, stood 20 plastic dinosaurs, each almost a foot in length. They posed in singles, teams, varied species or genuses, as if frozen in mid morning battle or foraging or courting. The group had an intense quality like theater or film, as if some incredible event just happened or was about to happen; perhaps they didn't need their "operator" at all. Something here spoke to me of love and desire. A child longed deeply to bring these strange ancient creatures to life right here on this untended yard. I stood and looked for a while, imagining what it must have been like to live among a pack of dinosaurs like this.

Two days later, I walked back the other direction down Manila, wanting to check the dinosaurs and bird house again. The dinosaur world had been rearranged! I missed what happened! Then the bird house. It looked the same at first. But when I looked closer, another surprise hit me. A little green, white and blue wooden bird --no more than half an inch tall - hung sideways on the tiny perch, wrapped around and held there by yellow thread. She seemed so pleased to have her own lovely house in the woods.

I can't stop smiling. The hands, minds and spirits of the children who made the bird house and the dinosaur patch on Manila Avenue will keep the world going, in spite of global warming. Yes, with brilliant children like these, our world will be okay.