(re-post)
Two women are standing in the parking lot of the Fairfield shopping plaza, the very nice shopping plaza with a view one way to the ocean across a charming cemetery, view other way to the lieutenant governor's stately residence on a hill; blue sky and white clouds over all.
One woman is on her way to groceries (that would be me). The other, a friendly stranger, has stopped to comment on my license plate which reads MDW LRK.
"That is my favourite bird," she tells me.
I tell her that I spent more than fifty years not knowing that my Polish name translates into 'meadowlark' and it is very appropriate.
"Such a song!" she says. "I grew up on the Prairies and would lie in a field and just listen. There were many meadowlarks, then, but that was long ago."
"I've never seen a meadowlark. Or heard its song." I say.
"I play violin and I wrote a song, inspired by hearing a certain meadowlark; the bird would repeat the same melody twice, then continue and it did this, over and over."
"It must have known you were an appreciative audience and was performing for you." I reply .
Two women, sharing a bit of self, on a sunny afternoon.
Posted on August 15, 2007 at 06:31 AM | Permalink
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