Smiling is contagious

—“Don’t stop!” I shouted to a pretty lady who had just jogged past us (me and Killian) on Lehigh Valley rail trail.
She screeched to a halt, turned toward me, and smiled gigantically — a smile that lit up the woods.
Boy am I glad I said something!
Obviously she was thrilled I noticed, and I wasn’t a creep about it.
Yada-yada-yada-yada. “I used to run,” I told her. “It’s probably why I can still walk this monster at age 76.”
“Well keep at it!” she shouted, smiling.
I hafta get used to this. Things are much different since my wife died. Killian is part of it (“oh what a pretty dog”). Plus a wife who liked me 44&1/2 years, despite how messed up and difficult I was.
“She made who you became possible,” my counselor tells me. “You were very lucky.”
10 years ago I wouldna said anything to that lady.
“NO PRETTY LADY WILL SMILE AT YOU!” That’s Hilda Q. Walton, my hyper-religious neighbor Sunday-School superintendent, who convinced me all males, including me at age 5, were SCUM. (Her husband was probably fooling around.)
Had not my parents, also hyper religious, heartily agreed, Faire Hilda woulda crashed in flames. With them I was “rebellious” for being unable to worship my holier-than-thou father.
Lehigh Valley rail-trail is on Lehigh Valley Railroad’s old Buffalo extension opened in 1892. It was abandoned, and a small segment was converted to a rail-trail. Much of that rail-trail is in neighboring Monroe County, and the part we hike goes through woods.
“The wooded cathedral,” I call it.
And unlike a city park, I encounter few people. With social-distancing, that’s advantageous.
Bicyclists, solitary hikers, people being walked by their dogs, families with baby trikes, and the occasional jogger.
And boy am I glad I said something to her. Her smile was incredible.
Go ahead! Strike up a conversation! I’m likely to hit pay-dirt. If I don’t, it’s no longer my fault.

• My current dog, “Killian,” is a “rescue Irish-Setter.” He’s eleven, and is my seventh Irish-Setter, an extremely lively dog. A “rescue Irish-Setter” is usually an Irish-Setter rescued from a bad home; e.g. abusive or a puppy-mill. Or perhaps its owner died. (Killian was a divorce victim.) By getting a rescue-dog I avoid puppydom, but the dog is often messed up. —Killian was fine. He’s my fifth rescue.