Here's something you might be interested in.
Continued from part 2
When I paused to catch my breath I noticed secret, little paths adjoining a house to a path or one house to another, and I imagined what fun it would be to live in these yards as a little garden gnome, able to traverse from one yard to the next with a hop, skip, and jump, never to be spotted by the big people. And then, quite suddenly, I felt a pair of eyes on me. Two pairs of eyes, to be exact. I turned, but could see no one, except, of course, the cheering flowers all about me. They were now giggling. Somebody, something, was watching me, I was sure of it. Eventually, after a few more twists and turns, and peering in random directions high and low, I spotted the culprits. Two rocks were making faces and laughing at me. I smiled and laughed right back. Had they been sitting there all day waiting for someone to walk by? I am sure they are still there, waiting and grinning, ready to chuckle at the next passerby.
The sets of stairs (8 in all) are not all directly connected to each other, though they are connected to each other via short walks along the side streets. I was walking along Alto for a stretch, beginning to think to myself that just maybe I had passed the next set of Secret Stairs, maybe they were too secret for me to find that day, when suddenly I caught some movement in the corner of my eye. I had almost missed it, the shape moved across the road so quickly, but I was sure I had seen it. It was a woman, in a green tank top, black shorts, and white sneakers, and iPod wires swinging. She disappeared so quickly that I half thought it had been my imagination; where could she have disappeared to? There was a wall of carefully trimmed brush, too thick to pass through. Ah, but then I discovered it, a small passageway between the thickets, and yes, you guessed it, a set of stairs. And there she was, leaping gazelle like down the steps. If she was going down all those steps, surely she must have run up all of them as well. I was impressed.
Another flurry of movement, this time a gray shirt and black leggings. A young mom trotted past me and on down the steps with a little toddler bouncing on her shoulders! I headed down the East side of Mount Nebo, following in the path of the two women ahead of me. I hopped down the steps, counting as I went. A set of 101 before I reached Sheldon, 104 before I reached Canterbury. And guess who passed me going up, while I was laboriously going down? First the young woman in sneakers, running (yes, running!) up the steps, soon followed by the young mother, still toting the toddler on her shoulders. I watched in amazement as she passed me, her head bowed as she concentrated on each step. Her son sat tall and straight, grinning broadly, a dimple on each cheek. “Hi!” he said cheerily, holding up one hand with fingers spread wide in a gracious wave.
I fumbled on down the steps, feeling a bit pathetic, glancing back occasionally and sending mental kudos to the dedicated stair steppers. I was sweaty and out of breath, and was looking forward to the cool comfort of my car. To motivate myself, I pulled out my keys and beeped my car. I could hear it, far below me. One more steep path, then the final 15 steps, my journey had come to an end, but fond memories just begun.
Continued from part 2
When I paused to catch my breath I noticed secret, little paths adjoining a house to a path or one house to another, and I imagined what fun it would be to live in these yards as a little garden gnome, able to traverse from one yard to the next with a hop, skip, and jump, never to be spotted by the big people. And then, quite suddenly, I felt a pair of eyes on me. Two pairs of eyes, to be exact. I turned, but could see no one, except, of course, the cheering flowers all about me. They were now giggling. Somebody, something, was watching me, I was sure of it. Eventually, after a few more twists and turns, and peering in random directions high and low, I spotted the culprits. Two rocks were making faces and laughing at me. I smiled and laughed right back. Had they been sitting there all day waiting for someone to walk by? I am sure they are still there, waiting and grinning, ready to chuckle at the next passerby.
The sets of stairs (8 in all) are not all directly connected to each other, though they are connected to each other via short walks along the side streets. I was walking along Alto for a stretch, beginning to think to myself that just maybe I had passed the next set of Secret Stairs, maybe they were too secret for me to find that day, when suddenly I caught some movement in the corner of my eye. I had almost missed it, the shape moved across the road so quickly, but I was sure I had seen it. It was a woman, in a green tank top, black shorts, and white sneakers, and iPod wires swinging. She disappeared so quickly that I half thought it had been my imagination; where could she have disappeared to? There was a wall of carefully trimmed brush, too thick to pass through. Ah, but then I discovered it, a small passageway between the thickets, and yes, you guessed it, a set of stairs. And there she was, leaping gazelle like down the steps. If she was going down all those steps, surely she must have run up all of them as well. I was impressed.
Another flurry of movement, this time a gray shirt and black leggings. A young mom trotted past me and on down the steps with a little toddler bouncing on her shoulders! I headed down the East side of Mount Nebo, following in the path of the two women ahead of me. I hopped down the steps, counting as I went. A set of 101 before I reached Sheldon, 104 before I reached Canterbury. And guess who passed me going up, while I was laboriously going down? First the young woman in sneakers, running (yes, running!) up the steps, soon followed by the young mother, still toting the toddler on her shoulders. I watched in amazement as she passed me, her head bowed as she concentrated on each step. Her son sat tall and straight, grinning broadly, a dimple on each cheek. “Hi!” he said cheerily, holding up one hand with fingers spread wide in a gracious wave.
I fumbled on down the steps, feeling a bit pathetic, glancing back occasionally and sending mental kudos to the dedicated stair steppers. I was sweaty and out of breath, and was looking forward to the cool comfort of my car. To motivate myself, I pulled out my keys and beeped my car. I could hear it, far below me. One more steep path, then the final 15 steps, my journey had come to an end, but fond memories just begun.