Dawn

I see Dawn just about every morning when I ride to work. She's the neighborhood bag lady. I don't use this term in a derogatory way, it is simply the best way I know to describe her. She has bags full of different things, depending on the day. She could be cleaning up the street, or she might be collecting treasure. Some days she looks up from her chores and smiles. Others she keeps her head down, focusing on the task in front of her, whatever that task might be. I've stopped on a couple of occasions to talk, but these chats usually dissolve after a few moments. Maybe it's me, but they don't track very well.
Consequently, I don't know a lot about Dawn outside of our brief encounters on my ride to school. She may be at home the rest of the day, busy making wads of cash on her E-Trade account. She may be living in a mansion up on the hill, making her way down to this corner of the 'hood to help out in any way she can. I do know that Dawn has been having some trouble getting around lately. I watched her negotiate a curb a few weeks ago, and that meant she needed to set her bags down, get herself up out of the street, then pick up the bags again. I didn't see her again for a couple of weeks, and I wondered if she had to retire.
Happily, this week I saw that she had acquired a shopping cart to aid in her constitutionals. I waved, but she was intent on keeping the wheels on the sidewalk, moving straight ahead. She had someplace she needed to be.