listening to Creedence Clearwater Revival,
watched her walk by.
Someone to fill his eyes and his time.
Nowhere to go.
Nowhere to be.
Living an afternoon dream.
A life his own. No one, but himself, to please.
He’s not lonely.
He can talk to the fish if needed.
Watching her bounce down the path.
Wavy blond hair under a baseball cap.
Stop she did, to adjust her camera. click, click, click
Oh yes, now is the time to take photos of bursting bulbs,
What’s her story, his mind began to wonder, as he watched
her stretch her lens toward the cactus tops.
She caught his gaze. She gave him a friendly wave.
Thoughts free flowing, through his mind.
An old man waiting for the fish to bite.
Just as he began to create a story of who she was,
she vanished. She was gone.
Plenty of blooming saguaro along the trail,
but she noticed more, beyond the tall brush,
beyond the barbed wire fence.
That is where she needed to be.
Not along this path of predictability.
She pushed through the shrub,
stopping here, lifting there.
Stepping carefully across thorny growth
and unstable earth.
This looks like a good place to start,
Perfect timing. Nature’s gifts.
A dragonfly descends.
Not one, but two. New life begins.
A butterfly meanders on its way to cooler temps.
Darting to and fro, a busy cactus wren
(state bird for those who don’t know).
Nest spotted, protected by thorns.
Miss Wren’s busy pace made sense.
Baby beaks to feed, nestled within.
Capturing nature’s dance,
when she noticed a tiny yellow flower,
filling the frame.
Out of place. Vibrant against the many shades
of earth tone browns and grays.
Why, she can’t explain, but the sight of it,
made tears flow and spill.
A rare desert rain.
She put down all she was carrying,
her equipment and burdens too.
She sat next to the tiny yellow bud
and dreamt away the hot afternoon.
She saw things as she never had before.
Wise, she was, to explore.
The sun was setting and the fish
weren’t biting or talking.
Time for the old man to pack up and go home.
Maybe stop at Fast Food.
Maybe get a fish sandwich to go.
He moved slowly, not because of his
arthritic knees and feet.
He was watching and wondering
and wondering and watching…
what happened to the lady who disappeared
beyond the tall shrubs and thorny trees?
Maybe he should look for her.
Maybe she fell and twisted her foot.
She just needs more time.
He walked away, slowly,
looking over his left shoulder.
Still no sign.
He packed up his gear and released a sigh
before closing his car door.
Looking in his rear-view,
driving toward last week’s catch at the drive-thru.🐟
I cannot just take pictures in the great outdoors, tune out my surroundings, and call it a day. My mind does not work that way. I notice people, things, and sounds beyond my camera lens. Seeing many perspectives and having an imagination makes life more interesting, especially when dreaming away a hot afternoon next to a yellow bloom.🌻
Thank you for visiting and reading. I hope you enjoyed my poetic tale that is more than half true. Not to be confused with half-truths. Be well.💗 Michele
Photos: Sonoran Desert, my images
© 2021 Michele Lee Sefton.