COVID-19 has people hunkering down, and at the same time looking up for once, to see the many people who work day in and day out to do the little things – stock grocery store shelves, clean hospitals, prepare and deliver food. On side streets all round my neighbourhood there are little monuments, signs, and tokens. On a little side street, 3 gardeners in a row are lined up like life-size gnomes with their colourful gloves and hats, each kneeling and digging amidst their early spring flowers and each oblivious of one another, and of me as I pass. Spring snow.Ī woman pushing a stroller walks past, oblivious to me and to the child as she talks into her phone, and the child looks over at me and smiles, unnoticed by its mother.Ī little guy riding his bike with his mom says “I’m sooooo tired” as he passes me, in just the tone that brings the image of our 3 year old instantly to mind. I walk past a magnificent magnolia in bloom, just as a gust of wind cascades pink flowers across the sidewalk. As a light breeze disturbs it there is a faint crunch as the ice breaks up, and an almost imperceptible squeak. I’m walking by the lake, in winter, and there is a thin skim of ice just formed along the shore. Do bold squirrels live longer, or is it the cautious ones? And I wonder, what is too much?Ī squirrel runs down a tree to the edge of the road, and hesitates, hesitates, hesitates, and then dashes part-way across, sees me coming, stops, turns, turns about again, hesitates, and then sprints the rest of the way to climb a tree, spiralling so that it says hidden from me as I pass. I overhear a woman as she gets out of her car and goes into her house, keys jangling as she gestures with one hand while talking into a phone held with the other: “I told you, that’s too much”. Occasionally, something will jog that hidden memory, and over the past few months I’ve been collecting these little postcards until I had enough for a post. I keep meaning to write down these scenes as the impressions register, but it’s a pain to type them into my phone as I walk and when I get home I’ve often forgotten them. Shakespeare said that all the world’s a stage, so I think of these as life’s little paragraph plays upon that stage, unconnected on one level and yet part of the world-weave that includes each of us. You can be in a kind of tuned out zone, just walking and not really aware of what’s happening around you, and then some little detail will catch your eye or your ear. One of the great things about walking, whether it’s in my neighbourhood (maybe especially in my neighbourhood), elsewhere in the city, or just out in the country on a trail, is that you continually see little scenes that register mentally but somewhat unconsciously as I wander along. Poochie is ignored can’t you see I’m on my phone!Ĭome on folks – share the space and smile at your neighbour.Poochie is poopie over there Poochie, poop over there!.Poochie is curious ooh, what have you found in that man’s shoe?.Poochie is rambunctious isn’t he cute!.Poochie is precious all my attention must be on him.In many cases, these non-professional dog walkers fall short of the standards set by their workaday employees. In today’s COVID times, this is a daily occurrence. In normal times, on weekends there would be the unleashing of the hounds as the walkers of dogs came out, families with their pets. Walkers of dogs, however, are like amateurs in many things – long on enthusiasm and short on technique. Sharing the path with them and 4-5 bounding terriers is tolerable. Generally speaking, these folks are just that, professionals, and keep their charges under control. In my neighbourhood there are lots of families that own dogs and who employ professional dog-walkers to exercise Fido during the day. I do make an exception for dog-walkers, aka the pro’s.

It’s just that I cannot always say the same for walkers of dogs, aka dog owners.

Today we fence in our pets, and designate park plots for pooches to poop.ĭon’t get me wrong, I do like dogs. While many of these parks have off-leash dog run areas, I grew up in a small town in rural Southern Ontario so when I was young everywhere was an off-leash dog run area. My preferred routes often take me through the local streets, parks, and ravines of Toronto. Walkers of dogs let pets take them for walks, a significant difference.

Keep calm and carry on milkman