He Apologized

Unforced Movement
Moving without trying to improve anything.

I left thinking nothing would happen.

That I wouldn’t have anything to write about.

Which felt fine.

I put on headphones.

Skipped the fanny pack this time.

Started walking.

I headed toward the path I found from the second trailhead.

As I crossed the street, I noticed something.

The closed trailhead looked different.

More empty.

No large equipment.

No workers.

I stepped into the open area to see.

The fencing was still there.

Still blocking it.

So I turned back.

Got on the sidewalk and kept going.

Further up, I saw one truck.

One worker.

He started walking toward me.

I thought I knew what he was going to say.

You can’t be in there.

The sidewalk is closed.

Don’t do that again.

As he got closer, I pulled one side of my headphones off.

Just enough to hear.

He didn’t say any of that.

He said,

“Sorry for the inconvenience, we are putting in a sump pump.”

I stopped for a second.

Not because of what he said.

But how he said it.

An apology.

For something I wasn’t even part of.

I couldn’t remember the last time someone apologized like that.

All I said was,

“How long?”

He said,

“We’ll be out of here after the weekend.”

I told him to be careful.

I’m not sure why.

Then I kept walking.

In my headphones, I heard:

“Just kicking down the cobblestones,
Looking for fun and feeling groovy.”

I smiled.

On the way back, everything had changed again.

The trailhead was busy.

Trucks lined the street.

Workers moving around.

I didn’t see him.

But I knew he was somewhere in there.

I kept walking.

Still hearing the song.

Still feeling it a little.

Then I went home.