I watched with delight as a swarm of kids of various sizes and ages participated in Let’s Chalk About It, a campaign to raise awareness of mental health. As I am a regular library patron I was frequently met with a host of artists sprawled across the wide concrete expanse, armed with chunky pieces of chalk, decorating and inscribing messages with enthusiasm. The words chalked were consistently positive, encouraging observers to participate.
I have long enjoyed stepping around such works of art. In my old neighbourhood, a long stretch of sidewalk was covered from side to side; purple seemed to be a favourite choice. I enjoyed the delicate array of flowers, entwined vines and happy faces. Sometimes the over large chalk remained, abandoned by a call to supper.
That particular artist was a small girl and her even smaller sister assisted her efforts. They were carefully supervised by their father, comfortably positioned on a nearby deck. She was often found on hands and knees, adding to her masterpiece or touching it up again. Sometimes she squatted, firmly grounded, while she considered her creation.
The steady flow of pedestrian traffic scuffed and smudged her work. I was careful to step around the workspace. There was plenty of room for both of us.
I have found similar artistry around town in my travels. Sometimes I am presented with a long detailed hopscotch design. My sisters and I were quite good at hopscotch at one time. As we had no sidewalk, we used instead the dirt in the driveway or the floor of the garage if it was raining.
I have always considered the appearance of chalk art as a sure sign of spring, a little late this year. Of course the arrival of robins earlier always coincides with a late snow squall. Their look of bewilderment is priceless. We, the permanent residents are merely grouchy, once more clad in our winter gear, muttering and groaning.
The robins just look confused. Did they misread the departure instructions? Did they take a wrong turn at the border crossing?
The recent rainfall was greeted with thankful comments. We all agreed that the moisture was welcome. The lawns have greened up, bushes are in bloom, and the perennials are thriving. A walk through the college grounds uplifts the spirits of everyone. Pathways covered in gravel, asphalt or brick make the experience user friendly.
I’ve been hearing that the bugs are back as well. Anyone who walks with me is quite safe from the onslaught. Like my father before me, I am particularly tasty. Despite my use of strong repellent, I am inundated with mosquitoes, while my companions walk in peace.
I recently returned to the library and looked for the chalk art. Sadly the much-needed rain has effectively erased the display. The encouragement to remain positive has been wiped clean. Surely we can heed the advice. Put a smile on someone’s face. Encourage someone. Make your community a better place. Be a friend.
- Hoey is a longtime Gazette columnist
