I stand surrounded. We’re waiting to deplane; released from the tight space we’ve shared for nearly four hours. It’s impossible not to hear conversations. It turns out the tall young men are looking at colleges.
Me too I tell them! Well not me, my daughter. They’re on a recruitment trip. Basketball. Well spoken, High schoolers. It’s exciting. So much hope and spirit, one can’t help but live a little vicariously through these young people.
As we exit, the attendant groans, “It’s hot.”
Hot yes, but later, walking down tree-lined streets of the Garden District, the occasional cool breeze or slight sprinkle gives relief at just the right moment. The pace is slow. Many shops are closed, announcing summer hours.
A smoothie keeps us cool and staves off hunger till La Petit Grocery opens for dinner. Then Blue Crab Beignets, flounder from the Gulf, Louie Armstrong playing begins our first night in New Orleans.
Walking home along Saint Charles Street, the streets are filling couples and families.
I stop to take a few pictures. Green, green, green and a little sparkle of Mardi Gras beads hanging from the telephone wires.
My daughter turns to me, “It’s so nice to be in a place where you don’t have to worry about a drought.”
Yes, the water is plentiful, and the lushness envelopes us.
Thank you, Anna, Beth, Betsy, Dana, Stacey and Tara for providing Two Writing Teacher’s Tuesday Slice of Life, a place to share our writing lives. Find more slices here.
To Read To Write To Be 