In Passing

In Passing

Noel Laflin

11-17-18

In the mornings they sometimes rush along when late - but oftentimes they just walk- young mothers and wrinkly grandmothers, some stoically pushing a stroller over a rocky path, all the while keeping kids with backpacks in line - the kids kicking at stones, laughing as they go.

Hours later, the elders return - many bearing large umbrellas to ward off the afternoon sun.

And soon, those same children of the morning, escorted along by their parents, or uncles, or aunts, or older sibling, or grandparents, are retracing the steps home – many of the elders speaking in Spanish - the kids answering in both Spanish and English. Often, there is laughter and the holding of youngsters’ hands.

It’s a scene I witness time and again as I wander the pond, camera in hand, with hopes of capturing some new critter in passing.

I like these folks, my neighbors of thirty-five years, as they remind me of another era, where most did walk to and from school.

Maybe it’s our neighborhood, as the majority of both young and old live in modest, or less than modest circumstances. There is no extra car, let alone any car for many of them by which to be driven to and from school.

So, they walk, as I once did eons ago, as it was just expected of us.

And sometimes I catch them in passing too.