Or did he need his eyes tested?

On Shabbos afternoon, I was on my usual Shabbos walk. There's a long version, which takes about three hours and a shorter one which takes about an hour and three quarters. This was the second leg of the longer version.

In both walks, I walk along the rural brook and through the little woodland which run right through suburban Finchley. I never walk past the brook without the words coming into my mind, who leadeth me beside the quiet waters, who restoreth my soul.

I love seeing the way the woodland and the brookside change from week to week. The woodland's now a deep, dusky green, so that the open parkland, where the children's playground is, looks all the more brilliant green in the sun after last week's three days of rain. The brook was running fast and clear, with the water forming itself into diamond patterned ribs in the breeze.

I'd done the long climb up the avenue of grand houses and on to the Regent's Park Road to walk down to Golders Green. I was wearing a dress I found in my favourite charity shop a week ago, and which I really like; it's khaki and made of a combination of linen and pleated, floaty layers of fine lawn. I'd found an art deco patterned scarf which looked good with it.

I usually feel happy when I do this walk, and I was lost in some pleasant reverie, walking along the road with no-one else in sight when I saw a small car with four young men in it driving up towards the traffic lights. The young man in the back seat on my side of the road looked out of the open window towards me and called out, "Excuse me..." He was remarkably good-looking, in his late twenties, tanned, with beautiful high cheekbones and large, deep brown eyes. His hair was dyed copper-auburn and waxed and gelled into one of those I've-just-been-messed-with styles. "Excuse me", he called out again,  "you're very beautiful". I laughed, circled my arm in a graceful arc and took a bow. Then the lights changed, the car sped off, and I went on walking towards Golders Green.

Comments

[Inna]

That's a lovely story.

Regards,

Inna