Where the pavement meets the road the terrain turns into yellow and gold dust that covers your shoes. I love this place and that yellow dust all over my sneakers. The poignancy of being a minority is not lost on me. I see it in the eyes and expressions of people I pass by. Children are amused, whether it's my skin, hair, eyes or age. Every morning and every night I pass an old man sitting on the side of the road, wearing a red baseball cap and talking to himself. He acknowledges me with a hand in the air. Everywhere there are vibrant colors : in the sky, in the clothes in the faces. I know I will leave and the dust will be washed off in a machine, my clothes will be washed in a machine, I will order food on line and have pizza delivered. I will no longer be a minority.... or will I
I think the summer brings the dust and the beautiful color you witness. During the rainy season, the dust turns to mud, which is very hard to navigate.
ReplyDelete