You need to grab nature wherever you can get it.
I walk on the cracked, gray, concrete ofÂ the New York streetsÂ to the McDonald’s across the street, the artificially colored arches calling to me, “Coffee!”
Before I can reach my destination, I face a challenge, like most explorers must.Â I need to cross over a thin strip of lawn that separates the parking lot from the drive-thru from the main entrance.Â This yard is green, and well maintained.Â I try not to trample anywhere beyond the pathway.Â The grass is wet and sparkly.Â Â It is my morning dew.
I know I am deceiving myself by considering it morning dew.Â I am trying to be poetic, to connect to Thoreau and Walt Whitman, even though I am in modern, decaying Queens.
There is a water hose curled up like a python near the drive-in sign that advertises the latest dollar meals.Â I can see the hose.Â I know it is there.Â I know that a staff member must water the lawn every morning.Â I know God is not sprinkling his natural goodness on this god-forsaken piece of land. Â Â I have never seen this McDonald’s employeeÂ in action, but I know that he was there before me, probably very unhappy about getting up so early to come to work to water the grass.
Even though I know the truth, I SEE the water on the grass as morning dew.Â The idea that morning dew has appeared across the street from my apartment building, in Queens, on this little plot of lawn — well, it just makes me happy.Â Water and grass.Â Can you get more elementary than that?Â With enough water and sun, a Garden of Eden could bloom, right on this spot, right next to the drive-in window of McDonald’s.
I kneel in front of the lawn.Â I always rub the top strands of grass, watching the drops of water fly into the air.Â I like when a droplet hits my skin and gives me a tickle.
I always wanted a dog, but have never owned one.Â When I rub the wet grass, I can imagine the wet hair of aÂ little dog, playful after a refreshing bath, shaking the water from his body to and fro.
The morning dew greets me like that friendly dog.Â Even when I feel lonely, one touch of the morning dew can change everything.