cold summer, warm heartbeat

august 25th, 11am – the weather voice said rain and 65 degrees, cooler at the shore.
like, no kidding.
you can catch your death of cold.
i put on a tee-shirt under my tee shirt.
i put on a flannel, long-sleeve work-shirt.
i put on my hiking boots.
i threw a hoodie in the bag that holds dog treats, dogbowl, etc.
i jumped into the car with maxx and drove out to fort tilden and into an empty parking lot confident that i wouldn’t be ticketed for being here without a sticker on my bumper.
funny what a cool, gray, rainy day could do to transform a crowded beach or federal park’s parking lot to a giant whisper and hush.
we walked onto the beach without a thought of “maybe willie nelson” or that ticket-writer from last week.
unleashing my dog, he ran and barked and spun in circles.
animals are smart enough to differentiate being happy and being much more than happy. maxx was ecstatic being on the beach again.

he was so filled with joy that he almost tore the sleeve right off my shirt.
the rain came and went and came again.
after beachtime we took the path in search of the great blue heron.

these things are like heartbeats to me.
i do them often enough that i might believe that my body expects it.
there are days that i find this absolutely necessary.
i attach “possible importance” to things, aware that i’m probably making this shit up as i go along. i think everybody does this in one way or another, whether it’s how many times the brush goes through the hair to the amount of steps a person will count off for no reason they can figure.
step on a crack, break your mother’s back…..

after the walk through the paths and excitement i feel when i’m about to be bowled-over by my chargingly-happy, 90-pound bear-child, we left the fort and headed to floyd bennett field.
i parked in a greenspace next to an airfield that was closed to motor vehicles and was away from the water.
i sat in the back seat of my car with all of the doors open like last time, when i brought the frankenstein mac laptop the first time.
the song of birds and the chatter of crickets was all there was and all i wanted. maxx sat behind me in the “wagon” portion of the stationwagon, with me sitting in the back seat, computer on my lap.
i wrote things to my friend while she sleeps.
there was a cool breeze and occasional showers.
i drifted off. it was easy.
where i was might as well have been another planet.
for all i know, it was.
i go to the darnedest places when i’m not here.
when i woke up, a monarch butterfly was bouncing in the air before me.
i don’t know why, but over the years their journey has become…i don’t know…another heartbeat;
another moment that i need to be a part of when it happens.
i didn’t feel the need to document this. it’s not all that important. i think there’s a couple years of monarch pics here.
have at it.

this may have been the universe i traveled when i took that nap.
or not.

About stephen trimboli

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