Something Of Its Flame

I admired her as she passed. Almost everyday like clockwork she went by – one foot keenly placed in front of the other, her body bent on moving as if it had some great purpose in mind, some place to go or perhaps an inborn determination not to give in to the hardships of life. Hunched over her walker, it seemed as though osteoporosis had taken its claim on her back, yet this did not deter her from taking great strides. This neighbour from a few houses down  was out there braving all kinds of weather, always with a smile on her face and a spark in her eye. I wondered what it was she might be thinking midst all those miles – something of her past, her future, or was she living within that particular moment, content with her mobility – her freedom still intact as the various elements beat down from above. Whatever it was within her spirit coaxing out this zest for life one could silently admire it from a distance away – feel something of its flame in all that it offered. A few days ago summer came and with it, her in a dress traveling again with one foot ahead of the next, her expression beaming there under the warmth of the sun.