Lemons, a pig & gloves

I’m very much into signs and clues.

I look for the message in things far too much, and a walk is always more than a walk. It’s a sort of intel-gathering mission.

Today I headed out without glasses (due to mask/fog conundrum) and without an audiobook in my ears. I wanted to tune out and tune in at the same time. Noticing what is around me, but also switching off from the stories and ideas that the rest of the day would bring.

I guess I just wanted to be open to the thoughts that popped up and the things I crossed paths with, if that makes sense.

It was an excellent decision because I noticed a bunch of stuff I might not usually have. For instance:

·      A water stain on the pathway that looked like a leaping pig. (Magic!)

·      The face of a lady, drawn in cracks. (Eeerie!)

·      Several piles of weeds strewn in little bundles beside the nature strips, their yellow flowers wilting mournfully while others remained, growing merrily in the garden bed. (I hate weeding too!)

·      A man in a stationary street sweeper, earnestly flicking through some kind of manual. (Probably a spy!)

·      Another man walking carefully along the kerb, his old dog plodding slowly a step down, along the gutter. (why?!)

·      A single blue glove. (Whose?!)

·      Names underfoot, carved out in setting concrete. (Whose?!)

I also passed the house which always has its blinds tightly shut. The one with the long grass and the lemon tree that’s simply heaving with fruit.

That tree tortures me.

I am almost positive this house is empty and that the lemons are going to waste.

I could make a lovely tart with them? Or some lemon curd?

But we are meant to be distancing and not visiting … So knocking on the door seems like a bad idea. 

Should I …  take my walk one evening, after dark, and creep in to borrow a few?

SHOULD I?