I was sitting in the lobby of the Boston Marriott Long Wharf Hotel, waiting for my friend Dave to show up.  A gentleman moved slowly to the couch across from me.  He had trouble sitting down.  Once there he closed his eyes.  There was a long scar on his knee.

When he came back to his surroundings, I said hi.  We talked about his home … Massachusetts, and mine … Gent.

And then his wife sat down.  Their room wasn’t ready yet.  She told me that they live an hour away but came to the Long Wharf for a two-day retreat.  Husband isn’t very mobile right now so the hotel offered the chance to be near the water and all the boats.  Plus near Francesca’s, one of their favorite restaurants.

I silently gave thanks for my continuing ability to wander the pathways of life.

Then they melted into each other … and I took their picture.

***

Dave and I meandered through the old streets.  In the daylight, we came upon an immense flag.  I find any country’s flag to be beautiful, and this one sure was.  The hopes and dreams of a nation.

Interlude:

I’m writing this from a bench in Boston Common, a huge downtown park with a splash pad and a woman wearing a white dress and straw hat, sitting with her friends.  Straight out of Gone With The Wind.

Okay … I’m too tired to keep writing.  Tomorrow morning I’ll tell you about more Boston people, and then it’s off to Barre, Massachusetts for the meditation retreat – nine days of no Internet, nine days of silence.

One more pic: evening grace …

À demain …