Bouncing Gray Curls

While my car idled at a red light, an elderly woman in the sedan behind me caught my attention. Her left hand held the steering wheel while she snapped the fingers on her right hand. It’s as though musical notes danced about her bouncing gray curls. Who was the artist singing inside her radio? Sinatra, Clooney, Bennet? I itched to tap on her window and ask, but instead, we accelerated on the green light. As she soon turned left and I continued straight, I thought of silently wishing her a joyful day, but clearly, she was already feeling that joy!

It’s the little things in life that make us sing and dance.πŸ’—

35 thoughts on “Bouncing Gray Curls

    • I’m glad this made you smile, Betty, but I don’t think of you as elderly. She was much older! Unfortunately, we’ll never know who she was rocking out to! More hugs back to you! πŸ˜ƒπŸ’•πŸ’•πŸ’•

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