W(h)ine

There I was, minding my own business, limping along the sidewalk on a warm summer’s day, camera in hand and ready for some art therapy…

When I hear a grumpy voice behind me asking, “What are you doing?”

I turn around to find an old couple in an old car, the husband in the driver’s seat, looking rather irritated and suspicious.

I said, I’m taking pictures of flowers, do you have a problem with that?

The old man said, yeah. I waited a beat or two for him to elaborate, but I finally said, fine, I can stop, no problem. Because I thought the yard and flowers belonged to the old couple in the old car.

I walked on, finding other flowers and trees to photograph. But I turned around and went back, past the wine-colored flowers, for a few more photos.

Turns out, that old couple in the old car don’t live in the house with the wine-colored flowers — the owner is a lady about my age, with two very loud weiner dogs.

I wondered why that old couple was so suspicious of little old me, and the only thing I could come up with is they thought I was spying on one of their neighbors.

Like a private detective, taking pictures through the tall, concealing flowers.

Perhaps I should’ve just told the couple about my art therapy…

Because one day, I could become one of those grumpy old-timers who yells at the kids to get off his lawn.

But probably not, mostly because I’ll never have a lawn. So, thanks to my neighbors and all the time and care they put into their lawns, which allows me to enjoy the view for free.

Happy Monday, all you grumpy whiners. LOL.

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