My kind of conversation

I was on a walk down an unfamiliar neighborhood street. I had hoped for peace and quiet, but two people joined me. As they talked I thought about what I would rather hear, but probably never will.

She: “The people in that house have been here for about three years. They have a son who lives in B– and a daughter who just got accepted into Yale on a scholarship for fencing”

What I want to hear: “Listen to the doves….cuckoo-coo. And those other bird calls are quail.”

He: “Why did these [other] people build their house to face at an angle like that? It makes no sense. They would rather look at their neighbors’ kitchen window than at the canyon!”

What I want to hear: “Feel the warm sunshine and the soft breeze.”

She: “This woman has lived here for about 20 years. Her daughter lives with her now to take care of her. Her boyfriend is from U–”

What I want to hear: “I know the woman who lives here. She has such a cheerful house and her smile is so sweet. You’d like the way her eyes shine when she tells stories of her past.”

I like a quiet walk without conversation at all. Talking would be tolerable if only people would talk about the things I love.

Happy things. Beautiful things. Gratefulness and appreciations. Simple pleasures.

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