Dancing
I’ve never been much of a dancer.
Blame it on genetics, blame it on religious tribal upbringing, blame it on the rain that was fallin’ fallin’, blame it on the stars that did shine at night.
It’s that whole feeling that people are looking at me and saying stuff like:
"hey look at that clown, come on you can’t be any worse than that!"
"is that guy okay, is he having a seizure."
"should we tell him the music has stopped?"
I thought of this while waiting yesterday afternoon to pick up the girl from softball practice.
A mid to advanced in years man came riding on a bike to the park.
He dismounted his bike, engaged the kick stand and began to dance.
Not a hip-hop, rapper, grab your crochet needles kind of dance but a graceful, gentle waltz.
A step here, a twirl there - he swayed and moved with the music that I could not hear in perfect time with the partner I could not see.
He danced for about ten minutes, got back on his bike and rode away.
4 Responses to “Dancing”
It must have been a lovely day, and he must have been a happy guy!
Strange… that he didn’t ask you to join him.
Must have been a sight, that.
“If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.”
–Henry David Thoreau
Clearly that man hearing more than just drumming.
A moment of happiness I’m sure for your “dancer.”
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