I was washing dishes today when I caught sight of a figure making their way down the wooded path through the trees.
I know I was in town a few days ago, and I met Barbie a few days before that, but all this snow feels muffling somehow – like, the world exists like normal, but the volume is turned way down.
I wake up, I make breakfast, I pick at a few projects around the house – unpacking, painting decorating… whatever.
Inevitably in the afternoon I’m drawn to the windows… usually the big one overlooking the backyard… and, I end up just staring into the treeline.
Today it was the kitchen. My hands loose in the soapy water, cooling in the sink. The dishes are dripping into the dry rack… and, my gaze just lost on the view.
The yard slopes deeply down towards some old railroad tracks and there’s a path that winds along.
And, today there was a figure making their way along… too short to be Barbie and too old to be the clerk from the store… maybe it’s her friend come to check the river, but the river’s on the other side of the house.
Just one lone figure, following the old tracks, but not crossing them.