the list of people to hang out with increases as time slips more and more from this place.
chris and i had been planning to chill for a while and after opting out of riding this morning i called him up and we had breakfast. he's a sharp guy with a beard and curly hair jutting from underneath a beanie. toque. whatever. after some food we spend a few hours at the church jamming. even pastor shawn joined for a bit and the three of us rolled out some blues.
meanwhile, the afternoon sun faded into a warm and lazy rain. spring rain. its the kind you can smell without trying and the kind of smell that evokes the scent of woods and pines and damp, heated blacktop from anywhere around this small town. later, i went for a walk and stopped by mugshots to see a friend, jerri. they were nearing closing time and she hooked me up with some free coffee. always appreciated. that and the chocolate milk.
the rest of lower main street was without snow. i had no money and nothing really to buy, except maybe a new sleeping bag if i can find one, so i joined the granola mountain-livers and skiers and tourist sidewalkers. our routines seemed similar and i'd duck into a snowboard or outdoor outfitter and leaf through the reduced end-of-season stock, declining any assistance offered from wandering employees, until any notion compelled me to be done. then i was back on the sidewalk, wandering again, until another storefront stepped forth to pull me in. i went to the tiny bookstore for their smell and not their selection because their nook of a floor space is too small and the air is always too warm in there.
i regretted wearing my checkered billabong coat. i could have made it today with just the flannel shirt and jeans. a longboard would have been nice, too, maybe. oh well, one last time. i'll be leaving the faithful jacket behind when i go.
when i go.. when i go... wasn't it just a few moments ago that i got here?