Bottle cap in the parking lot, shiny and new: Mike’s Hard lemonade. I love it.

   No herons on walk, old and dull. Lot more people than of late now that the path is thawed out and clear of snow and ice. If I were counting there might be a dozen.

   The Border’s Wyomissing store is closing. Banners hang from the ceiling shouting reduced prices. The place looks half-demolished. It is sad.

   I visit in order to find a bargain I cannot live without. The book on Lew French’s meticulous, beautiful, clean, precise stonework is tempting, as is a book of Allegra Hicks fabric design, but they are too dear to impulse buy and I wait. Freehand yet thoughtfully constructed, like the bitten walnut shell half I find at the park.

   Herons look a bit like pterodactyls. I return a how to write greeting cards book to the Reading public library. Ascending the stone steps with their foot and time-worn depressions, I read about dactylic feet and that is the closest I can come to a heron this morning.

   Hard lemonade is ok and the lemonade Girl Scout cookies are awesome if you like that kind of thing and want to support little girls who may grow up to be professional women.


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