it happens more and more

I had just walked out onto the front steps, all the lights off, the wife and girls are out of town, me just meditating in my cave. I saw him standing near the Ford, so I called out “can I help you brah?” I had seen him ride past, checking it out. He was wearing a grey hoody, some old surf jeans and crippled Vans. He looked about my age, or 23 on meth. As he heard me, he said “yeah man, do you know where Hanover Street is?” I replied, smugly “no, maybe in another town.” “ I’ve seen you ride by, checking my place out, looks sort of empty I guess, so really dude, what the fuck?” he calmly said “look bro, I don’t want no trouble, everything’s chill, and what’s up with that?”, referring to my short, stout and heavy sand wedge. So I told him “look man, I come out here every night to watch the stars, but some nights I see some crazy shit; fox, possums, raccoons, even deer, tons of deer. So anyway, what I’m saying is I never know what I might run into out here in the dark, some of which I might need defense from, some I might just want to kill and eat.” He turned, and went for his bike leaving with “cool bro, have a good one.” –peddling away like a homeless rocket technician.
I went back inside, and about a half hour later after a chat with Ed, I walked outside again, just for a few minutes. I noticed all the cars, it must be Easter. My Highway tells me things. I know what to expect by what she bears. She tells me when they are coming, and how many of them, what breed? And some nights, when its Nor’easter cold I can hear the power lines crackling and buzzing in the stiff breeze and salt air. I like those nights, when my Highway is still, anyway.

The chill and the vehicles sent me back inside to the warm nest and the potato salad I set out before all of this. I don’t know, nor care if anyone else thinks like this, but I like my potato salad closer to room temperature than refrigerator temperature, of course, having first been cold. I don’t know why. It has probably got something to do with my grandmother, and homemade sweet pickles.