a green house on the corner….

There is a green house on the corner between here and somewhere else that appears to be a remnant from an earlier time; it is not alone, though, as its neighbors are similarly styled and worn.  This house is of a faded green and has golden frames around the windows and doors and bears the same color along the roof trim and on its decorative and side-ways awning.  The colors, faded and stark as they are, remind me of certain football uniforms from a high-school in my past.  The boys who wore them were fast and young and full of new life and the house seems staid and tired, like a left-over, as I said, from an earlier time.

Around the front and side of the green house is a green and slatted fence, vertical boards of like hue and wear that hold a gate in their center grasp, a gate that is often left open to swing with the breeze or storm of a particular afternoon.  I have passed this house and yard and fence innumerable times over the past year and then, and have only seen as occupant of the property, an oldish-looking gray tabby cat.  I have seen this cat some several times, but have only seen him resting in the deep grass near a grated basement window.  It was long grass, and green, too, with a richness that might shame the green of the house if an old coat of paint could feel such a thing.  Anyway, the tabby usually lay there in the late morning or early afternoon sun with his eyes closed and his ears pivoting or twitching at the sounds of my passing on the nearby sidewalk.

It has been some while since I’ve seen the cat, though I walk or pass by the green house still frequently.  I have not seen him there by the basement window with the gold and faded window arch of squared or molded brick; I’ve not seen him walking past the opened gate or curled up on the welcoming door mat as cats sometimes do, nor have I seen him sitting on the inside windowsill licking a paw or rubbing his ears as cats I have known have done.

When I passed that old green house today, on the corner between here and somewhere else, there was an old man with gray hair and green pants standing in the yard watering a skinny tree, a bush, or some other such living thing on this sometimey summer morning.  He was a tall old man with long and wirey arms that were covered to a moderate degree with thinning old-man gray hair.  As the tall old man stood there with the gray hair on his head and long arms, with a green hose in his hand, he was facing the sun with his eyes closed.  I noticed that he didn’t open them as I passed, but slightly turned his head so he could better hear me in my passing.

I wonder if the tall old man used to be the oldish-looking gray tabby cat that I haven’t seen for so long…I do wonder so.

12 responses

  1. Jason

    I think you have been around the Mormons too much. You are beginning to believe in some pretty crazy ideas old friend… 🙂 … Wonderful piece Sir Seekr…

    August 16, 2011 at 8:07 pm

    • Thank you, Jason, just thought it was funny how the cat was gone and now the old man is there…and wondered at possibilities, as the mind is given to doing at times. Kind words…my friend.

      August 17, 2011 at 5:30 am

  2. Becky

    That was a beautifully written tale…loved it and the Hahn Hawks!

    August 16, 2011 at 8:11 pm

    • Yes, Becky…silly memories, and how they live still. Thank you.

      August 17, 2011 at 5:31 am

  3. Chris Sto--

    I find it refreshing to know that someone considered and has given thought to a past time and to the paradox that rests between the previous energy of new life and the staid tired resemblance in the present. I guess everyone that lives long enough has their time of youth and their time of age. Nice Scott.

    August 16, 2011 at 11:26 pm

    • Yes, Chris, if we stick around long enough, we do have opportunity to measure what used to be by what we find in the present…and they are often sad and wonderful parallels. Thank you for visiting and adding to the post…a voice from the past. I hope you’re doing well….

      August 17, 2011 at 5:36 am

  4. Lovely to ponder this story and view your wonderful images. Love the imagery of the cat turned to man — mystical and magical indeed!! Thanks for sharing this:)

    April 5, 2012 at 10:24 pm

    • Thank you for your nice words, Robyn…and you’re very welcome. 🙂

      April 5, 2012 at 10:26 pm

  5. You’ve really stirred my imagination. I shall continue to ponder ……… 🙂

    April 6, 2012 at 12:53 pm

    • Good for me…thank you, Meanderer! 🙂

      April 6, 2012 at 10:08 pm

  6. George Weaver

    Scott, you’re transformed here. Into a philosopher. I like it. I always wonder about those old, sort of neglected houses. I like the cat morphing into the man image. This is a really nice one.

    April 6, 2012 at 1:16 pm

    • Thank you, George…I like to stretch myself sometimes. 🙂

      And I like the house, too…seem to be a bunch of them in this neighborhood…older part of the central city…mostly nice, but many have some rough and worn edges.

      I’m glad you liked the post, George…thanks. 🙂

      April 6, 2012 at 10:11 pm

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