A Turn, Always

There's always a turn in the road -- indeed, many turns -- which you have never taken, and may long have been intrigued by. Take such a turn, and you will see: see things you've never seen, and which not even the Internet has an account of whatsoever, from your way of seeing. And not just see: feel. Have feelings that make you not simply the person you presently are, but the one you're becoming, truly.

I took such a ('left') turn today, and came upon many lovely homes that I'd never seen, in which people live that I don't know -- perhaps just don't know yet, or perhaps know but have not imagined live quietly here -- in a serene neighborhood which was suddenly new to me. 

Hardly a resident on the sidewalks, but a scatter of parked and parking cars -- arranged as the neighborhood and the city desire that visitors arrange them. Hardly any sight or sound of children behind the fencings, nor of their parents and minders. Not of their older siblings and cousins either. 

A sense, nevertheless, of an unstoppable digital migration. A sense that belying the laid back physical ambiance was a vigorous and dedicated electronic chatter all over the air.

Anonymous people, then; yet people I have probably seen elsewhere -- in the streets of downtown Iborian, in the suburban malls, in other 'elsewheres'. Or who have seen me drive by -- seen the car I drive (and which is my, truly my, wife's) driven by as frequently as they think they remember. 

People who may even remember my face from behind the wheel, or from many chance encounters in public places, shared venues. People you wouldn't want to call strangers, because you had this deep feeling that living in the same city somehow bonded you, the all of you, mysteriously and gladly, into a oneness; and that the bonding was the reason the city continued to be as it was -- and to evolve as it was.

But one guessed, alright, that today the residents were probably there, taking it easy near mid-day on a sun-shiny Saturday. Or if not, then, perhaps like me, they were mostly out -- the day being what it was, the time seeming proper: out to/from the supermarkets, out to/from the malls, out to/from the barbers and the "saloons" and the tailors and the petrol stations and all the places worth being at.

I was, thusly, 'left' to my own devices. I was on my "own O!" 

I soon came to a dead end, though, and did a U Turn at once disappointing and prepared for. The turn I'd taken didn't exit at the other end and so couldn't take me to a road I'd thought/hoped/ doubted it might -- the hope that had prompted me to take the turn in the first place, on this day.

I turned left, at the point I'd moments earlier turned left, and drove home.