The Morning After

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This morning shows the promise of a perfect April day at the western edge of Little Rock, Arkansas. I know this as I raise the widow shade and see the soft, golden rays touch the panoramic landscape that extend to an unnamed ridge far to the north.

Below, just beyond the parking lot fence is the activity yard of an upscale apartment – an outdoor BBQ/dining area, swimming pool, and tennis/basketball court.

Last night a group of young men were gathered at a large table while another was grilling something that generated a great deal of smoke. No one was swimming in the 60 degree pool, but eight or ten individuals were engaged in a lively basketball game.

This morning all was quiet and deserted. An old man traveling the east-west sidewalk was walking some breed of terrier, and he was pausing (apparently) so the dog could take a crap on the newly mown grass. But before the action began a young man emerged from what might be their recreation hall and placed something on a table. Obviously, the old man had not brought a poop bag, so he tugged at the leash, breaking the dog’s concentration. Together they continued their westward trek and no doubt made a deposit somewhere beyond my field of vision.

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