To see and be seen

I've been commuting by foot or scooter (with a little public transportation mixed in for a couple years) for more than thirteen years.  The slower pace over a smaller stretch of road/path gives me time to notice things I wouldn't otherwise notice.  One of those things I've reflected on many times is the routines people follow which create repeat interactions (?) / exposures (?) - whatever you want to call them.  

I've learned that it doesn't take long to pick up on these patterns.  I remember three weeks I spent in Houston 10 years ago where every morning after dropping my now ex-husband off at his temporary office, I drove a short distance to a bayou, parked, and walked the same trail with the same people.  Although I never knew their names or spoke with them, it was a bit sad on my last day to realize I would not see them ever again.  They had left an impression on me.

In Wisconsin, there was an older couple who regularly walked the wooded path I often took.  I did actually briefly speak to them once or twice but most of our interactions were just a "good morning" as I scootered by.  After moving away, I thought about them a number of times and wondered how they felt about the fact that one day I just seemed to disappear. 

It's not just about the people I see, people also see me.  More than one person has asked me where my scooter was on a day I chose to walk.  My scooter blog title "The Scooter Lady" actually came from someone in Wisconsin who would call out anytime he saw me "there's the scooter lady!"

This morning, I was walking through the park on my commute to work.  A man with a camera was standing watching a Yellow-crowned Night Heron.  And although he was out of place with regard to the routines I have watched, I immediately recognized him.  He acknowledged that he recognized me as well.  He lives in a first floor unit near my work and often leaves his blinds open.  He has watched me scooter past his window countless times and I have tried to discretely peak in on the world in his living room on the countless times I've passed by.

It wasn't until that conversation though that either of us realized the other was into birding and photography.  Although for the past three years, we had observed each other's routines, we had never spoken to one another before this morning.  I'm really glad I stopped and chatted with him.

I think I have underestimated the impact of these little connections as I go about my daily life, the people I see and the people who see me.  It is one way that contributes to a sense of community.  Maybe that is one of the reasons why I so enjoy my walkable life.  It slows me down to notice the ways I am seen and the ways I fit into my community.