From time to time, I have this pattern: wake up early, run some errands at the nearby Walgreen’s, stop for an espresso at the French bakery.
This all happens fairly early, circa 7-7:30 AM. But it’s a nice start to my morning, in that I’ll sit and sip on this espresso for a little while, before heading home.
I was walking to UPS today, and came across a driver just kind of sitting at a stop sign. There were no other cars around, but he seemed to be just looking in the distance. And not moving.
I like to imagine it was sitting there, upright, until someone who was really mad came along. And everything just naturally worked out from there.
Was running some errands today, and this mural stopped me in my tracks. I guess this shows how infrequently I leave the house, because I think this thing has been up for some time (I remembered seeing this on my neighbor Betsy’s Instagram account).
After our meal, we decided to browse a bit at The Seminary Co-op. A few of the books outside caught our eye, and we decided to venture inside to look around more.
With the crazy long work day we had yesterday, Liz and I were both pretty wiped out today.
Nearby, about 4 feet away, I saw this. I’m all for some good graffiti, but I’m very much at a loss for what’s going on here. Random Google searches turn up very little.
Tonight, Liz called me over to the kitchen and told me to listen. We heard what sounded like a group of people singing.
Our walks have been a good thing, and a habit I hope we re-introduce into our lives. While we have retreated from the world this last year, the world still exists. And I’m realizing how much more intention is needed, for us to interact with it.
While I initially viewed the sculpture as odd, I had an unexpectedly quick and visceral feeling of offense, when I found out it had been vandalized several times. I’m still not sure if I like it or not as a work of art, but apparently I’m protective of it?
The birdbath snowcake, whose base is almost entirely covered. This cake is jsut about 100% icing, folks.
Liz, moments after saying “Come over here for a second.” And then failing to pull me into the snowbank.
On the way back, we passed by an office where I noticed some writing on the windows. The fact that the blinds were drawn made them stand out a bit more. They looked like chemical formulas/notations.
One thought I had, while working outside clearing snow: there are a few ways to look at the world. Through an adult’s eyes, the snow is a chore, a task that blocks the ability to do other things. Through a child’s eyes, the snow is a wonder, a marvel of nature, the elements rearranged in a way we infrequently see.
Even as I was feeling tired and sore, I tried to look at the snow with a sense of wonderment. Because it really was a fantastic sight to behold.
There isn’t much to this video. It’s just a snippet of the afternoon, standing on my front porch, as the leaves just seemed to pour down. A hint of fall, a signal of the cold to come.
A quiet, unassuming moment I felt worth capturing.