people_watching tender_square nacho man ate from a contraption where his chips nestled in a container attached to the top of his drinking cup, a straw extending through the center’s added height. he picked at a tiny cup of jalapeno’s with thick fingers, eating them raw. he thumbed his phone, reading a text message. the chain had begun with a live photo of the puck drop he’d sent. the person wrote a garbled message in return: “i don’t believe you’re collage college hockey, you’ve had too much vodka.” i watched from over his shoulder as his salty skin hovered above the keys, deciphering or deciding. he sent: “no, not enough vodka,” and silently chuckled to himself, licking his glistening fingers. he left after the first period, but his garbage stayed on the bleacher witnessing the rest of the game. pink nails pulled her face to her phone and squinted through bifocals. her one-inch fingernails curved into cracking talons and she pecked slowly at each key, watching the predictive text offer suggestions. twenty words of reply took twenty minutes to type. she saved the contact as “doug at the lake” in her phone. she opened up a photograph someone sent to her of a young couple holding hands, their backs to the camera as they smiled over their shoulders, and she zoomed in on their buttocks and nudged her husband to look. she was trying to make out what was held in their pockets, for some strange reason or another. and why this was more exciting than witnessing men speed skate on thin blades slapping sticks and shoving into the boards was beyond my comprehension. 221015 ... ovenbird Scuba man is wearing a full length wet suit and a snorkel mask at the public pool while slowly making his way around the "lazy river" feature clutching not one, but TWO, inflatables. I have so many questions about how he arrived at this moment. 250505 ... ovenbird Violin woman was at the park with a young child. The child was running around, climbing, going down the slide. She was standing by a bench, keeping watch over him, while also playing a violin exquisitely. Can you believe it? Just out there in the open air! The sun was shining and her small child was exploring and she was playing some piece of classical music for the birds and I was stopped in my tracks with wonder. I was immediately in love with this woman who decided that she didn’t care about whether people thought she was weird. She was just doing what she loves and letting the whole world hear that love transformed into music floating all the way across the grass to the Fraser River. I waved. She nodded and kept playing. 250507 ... ovenbird Opera Lady was standing on a stage of driftwood along a slender strip of beach by the Fraser River with a blue towel draped over her head singing shamelessly, and with much tremulous vibrato, to the sea otters. (They were, as it turns out, busy fishing, and weren’t very forthcoming with their appreciation, but they were a captive audience.) Despite some incredulous looks from a human family twenty feet away, Opera Lady continued to shriek into the day, hoping, perhaps, to hear an answering scream. Haven’t we all, at one point or another, stridently begged to have the keen edge of our loneliness dulled? Haven’t we all, in a moment of desperation, sacrificed our vocal cords in a final bid for one enthusiastic “yes”? 250528 ... ovenbird Walking man was traversing the (completely flat) sidewalks with nordic_walking_sticks while carrying a large box of smoked salmon. This feels like something you would only see on the west coast. 250619 ... ovenbird Crouching man was bent low over the sidewalk, taking a picture of something on the ground. He balanced his camera precariously, his face only inches from the concrete. Eventually satisfied, he wandered off and I went to see what he had been looking at. It was a small common garden snail. I wanted to run to catch up to the crouching man. I wanted to reach out and touch his sleeve, see his face. Anyone who is stopped in their tracks by a lowly snail, who hones in on the perfection of the spiraling shell, and takes a picture home to remember the moment forever, is someone worth knowing. But he had already disappeared around the corner and I was distracted by a talkative crow and the moment was lost in the leaf litter of an already aging day. 251003 what's it to you? who go blather from