Bill Kenny: Norwich Memorial Day Remembrance at Chelsea Parade

I took advantage of that glorious weather we had around Memorial Day to break in my sneakers and enjoy the sunny side of the streets. I see/hear and experience things walking at the speed of thought that just do not register when I'm behind the wheel driving somewhere.

I see people and situations around me I may have overlooked or underappreciated previously and savor the opportunity to celebrate random acts of kindness that only add to the experience.

I witnessed a somber moment at the Memorial Day Remembrance at Chelsea Parade that had nothing to do with the events being presented. As the ceremonies progressed, someone carrying a large American flag made his way, from marker to marker, in the area of the monuments, pausing with head bowed for a moment at each one, and then drew himself to attention and rendered a hand salute to honor the fallen before executing a turn and striding to the next where he repeated his tribute.

He spoke to me afterwards and explained this was his way of remembering two friends who had died during the Vietnam War and I, who had lost a prep school classmate in that same war, thanked him for the reminder and, by extension, allowing me to share in his recognition and remembrance of those lives.

And then the day following, just before noon, while building up my step count walking around Chelsea Parade, I spied a woman (I think, I was too far away to get a good look so that career in surreptitious surveillance is out) adding fresh live flowering plants to that beautiful old stone fountain from another time and place in Norwich history. You know the one that sits at the very tip of Chelsea Parade at the intersection of Broadway and Washington Street?

Thousands of cars and trucks race by that spot every day, mine often among them, and I suspect very few of us ever notice the flowers or the fountain, but there they are and the person responsible for them doesn't do it for our gratitude or notice.

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More recently, I passed a couple with a young child, 4 or 5 years old I'm guessing, walking in the opposite direction from me and as they approached I could see the child, perhaps drawing his energy and enthusiasm from the cloudless blue skies above, racing in front of them, weaving between the trees that grow parallel to the sidewalk at Chelsea Parade. He was singing I have no idea what song, and I'm not sure he did either, as he scampered and skipped, always looking back over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't too far ahead of his parents.

He was, with all due respect to my Latin teacher, carpeing the heqq out of that diem, let me tell you, and it made my day brighter just watching him enjoy his. I cannot remember the last time I saw anyone at any age enjoy green grass, blue skies, and bright sunshine quite as much as that young person.

And I wondered what happens to all that joy as we grow older? Why can't we be enthusiastic beginners at 30, or 60, or whatever age we are? Trading maturity for the joy of living doesn't strike me as a particularly good bargain, so if you don't mind, I’ll lace up my sneakers and keep walking.

Bill Kenny, of Norwich, writes a weekly column about Norwich issues. His blog, Tilting at Windmills, can be accessed at https://tiltingatwindmills-dweeb.blogspot.com/.