In the Street – travel journals (1)

Everyone likes games, and so do I. I think not to tell you where I am and simply begin to post pictures. Look at the pictures objectively because,  while speaking reality I may be inclined to become subjective myself.

These two children were running and giggling across the park path. I thought I took the picture of two active Asian kids, but they are Americans. Surprised and not.

On the corner of a small park, I saw this three-company. A grandmother, a granddaughter, and a mother. Granny was enjoying the lunch with her grand-girl, and not in a ‘home’ eating on her own with a caregiver.

For three decades, I can not tell one fish from the other. I buy fillets from supermarkets and trust the names listed on the package. It was refreshing to see the real thing and the ‘poor thing’ still struggling on the basket.

I have watched people filleting the fish at the fish market at home. One cut on one side and the other cut on the other with the skin still on and the remaining was tossed back to the water. Here this guy skinned the fish and slice the meat back and forth three times (on one side) and another 3 slices on the other before he tossed the fish.  Skillful and Resourceful.

She must be in her 80’s. Not in a foster home rolling the wheelchair, not in a morning hiking group, she was pushing a cart filled with vegetables and setting herself right in the middle of the market. I wish I could buy something from her, but all I can do is take her picture.

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