Onion butter was used frequently during the high holy days at the river house. In the summer they used shallots, some tarragon, bark from a milkweed if they could find it, mixed with a sprig of rosemary or flat leafed Bibb lettuce.

Gary walked to the market and smelled the smells given by the morning. He loved this more than anything the day had to offer. He loved being alone. He loved being alone on his walk. His mind quieted best during this alone time. He would begin thinking about what to wear, then what to buy at the market, sometimes his mind would jump around but it would eventually drift back to what was in front of him. The dog would come to him, scampering and breathing heavy, playfully as dogs do. It always wanted to go out when Gary moved toward his shoes. He would not pet the dog, he would not look at it. It was not his dog.

On the walk he would begin looking down, carefully watching his step. As he moved forward his gaze would lift and the road would spread before him a little further. That was when the smells would begin. The brush along the road was abundant, thick. The heat from the sun had plenty to do with producing the smells. Gary came to the conclusion that the smells from the bramble in the morning were slightly different than those in late afternoon.

 A grasshopper flew across his path. He remembered catching them with a jar back home. He and the Peck boys; Billy, Johnny, Jerry, Barry, Danny...some with nets, some with jars.
 Bees and grasshoppers.

Gary had no idea that simply taking notice of what was around him at any given moment was exponentially increasing his own compassion for everything around him.
Gary was clueless about Gary.
He had lived his entire sixty seven years with little notice of how he moved through the world. Gary had little regard for anyone other than Gary. He lived without regret, without shame, without caring how others perceived him or how his thoughts and actions might anything.
 He was unapologetically, Gary.

After chatting with the "Tomato Man," and the "Bread Lady," and buying perhaps more goat cheeese than he needed, Gary made his way over to the flower area. He rarely bought flowers as the grounds surrounding the house seemed to always be in bloom. He noticed the older Spanish woman sitting in the shade wrapping up some water crowfoot blossoms for a ten year old boy and his mother. He watched the Spanish woman tie the twine and smile as she handed back the change.

"Where does she live?" Gary wondered to himself.
..."She was someone's daughter once."

Four days later Gary put on his other pair of Merrell walking shoes, found a collar and leash for the dog and took it for a walk. As the dog sniffed and stopped every four feet, Gary reflected on the time he added some zeros to an anonymous account at a bank he clerked in, maybe in Kansas or Wyoming. He couldn't remember exactly.  He grinned, and watched the dog move away in pain after getting stuck by a barrel cactus.