Listics

Life in the country provides room for expansive expression. Walking with the dog I often find myself singing. The lyrics don’t matter and the tunes are either my own or oldies that emerge from my mind to match my pace. Walking on the road with Molly, singing something like “Nooncy nooncy bow-wow, doggy-doggy doo…” to the tune of Lily Marlene, one is occasionally overtaken by a silent riding bicyclist and the illusion of privacy is dispelled.

“Loony old man,” thinks the bicyclist.

“I wonder if I should podcast these tunes,” thinks the loony old man.

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