Walking Without Glasses

I have been out more often without my glasses recently.  And it isn’t without it’s advantages.

For one, everything has a bit of an impressionistic feel about it.  My eyes really are not that bad, but bad enough to erase sharp edges and make colors blend in the light.  Impressionism suits my walks nicely, too.

The real fun occurs when I start seeing people I know.  I will always error on being friendly so when I don’t have my glasses, I am waving a lot.

I saw my Uncle Lloyd, for example, sitting by the Lake Harriet boat launch.  Never mind that Uncle Lloyd doesn’t come over the Minneapolis and the woman he was with looked nothing like my aunt.  I waved just in case.  When I got close…well, I was mistaken.

I thought I saw the mother of a childhood friend who lived next door to me when I was a boy.  I waved, squinted, and got a little closer.  Wrong again.

Interestingly, I seem to only see people I like when I think I am seeing someone I know.  Although I did think I saw an ex-wife and of course an old girlfriend or two, but you know…I don’t really hold a grudge.

Then there was Cousin Phillip coming toward me on the path wearing a pink madras baseball cap.  Now I am almost certain Phillip would never wear anything in pink madras, but I figure if he were going to wear something in pink madras it would be a baseball cap.  So I walked up:  “Hey, Phillip!  Oh, never mind…”

Disadvantages exist, of course.  I probably did walk right past people who I did in fact know.  And I’ll never know if the fish I saw jump was a bass or a carp.  Let’s be thankful I wasn’t witness to a crime, too.

I also worry a little about my eyes.  I spend a lot of time out in the sun.  I am told eye color doesn’t really mean much when it comes to tolerance to brightness, but I worry.  Although I am sure back in my family tree there were people who chased reindeer across glaciers in Europe.   I imagine that was a glaring business.  But blue eyes survived the genetic washout.

I planned to convert one of my walk pictures into an impressionist painting using Photoshop or something, but trying to figure that out gave me a nasty headache.  (What the the hell are “layers” , “overlays,” and Command-E??)  ‘So I included the painting above, Allée of Chestnut Trees by English painter Alfred Sisley.  It does not take much of an imagination to see the north side of Lake Harriet in Minneapolis, looking toward the band shell area on the northwest corner of the lake.

Who needs Photoshop?

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