today during a dusk-time stroll i spontaneously remembered something i used to play as a kid: walking with my eyes closed, a game of self-directed “chicken” to see how long i could make it down the sidewalk before getting too scared of colliding into something (or someone) and opening my eyes again.
for a short stint in my early 20s, i even played this game while driving on long stretches of country road i had been on dozens of times or more - typically when i was the only car on the road and never for more than a breath or two at a time, but a surge of adrenaline coursed through my body all the same, as if i were doing daredevil stunts on a highway full of cars. afterwards i would peek open my eyes to examine how far left or right i had drifted in the lane, a secret afterglow of pride and delight at my own deviance lingering in my hands as they gripped the steering wheel tighter.
this evening, as the first patter of raindrops began to land on the rooftops of parked cars which had arrived home early for friday Feierabend, i felt suddenly compelled to close my eyes again, the spontaneous memory of my childhood pulling them shut like a magnet. i only took four or five steps before fear pried my eyelids open again, but in those brief moments i heard three distinct bird calls echoing from my right auditory field towards my left, felt the increased velocity of a breeze ruffling hairs from my face, heard the rain pattering more urgently, caught a waft of sticky yeast from the neighborhood coal-oven pizzeria. when i opened my eyes i was about 20 feet away from an older woman with her hands shoved deep in her pockets, directly in my trajectory. she and i did the clumsy skip-hop waltz where we both started in the same direction in an attempt to pass each other, and then once again at the same time in the opposite direction, then finally sorted ourselves out into proper lanes to allow each other by. equally delighted, we laughed synchronously, both throwing up our shoulders at the same time and matching each other’s schoolgirl giggles before continuing on our own separate ways.
Such descriptive imagery for all the human senses! And I can relate to this “game” too; this is the first time I read of someone else having done it, though.