(an ongoing series, kind of like a picture a week but of my thoughts when I step outside and take the world in, stream of my consciousness I suppose, so I invite you to check it out)
Taking out the garbage, a sunday ritual with no holiday pending extending the weekend, a ritual, a comfort just as much as ordering out from the local, quite average, chinese restaurant, well, it is local, this day (well early night to be exact) does not seem to know what to make of itself, a cool breeze but not a cold one, no ice in sight to pronounce the season, i’m in no rush to rush back indoors, I stop to pause, to observe the world in it’s natural orderly.
I can almost taste the faint of hope in the air, or maybe it is just the slight relent of the choke-hold of cold that has settled into common trend these past months, the tides of spring are surely rising, somewhere out there, past the horizon, but yet, I am quite sure winter has not shed all of her teeth.
there is a great deal more sound out on the town tonight, to my left the semi-distant whizzing din of a busy road, up and to the left the low rumble roar of a jumbo-liner on to a destination, more immediately left (two houses down across the street) children squabbling getting into the car after a night at their grandparent’s house, “stop it L-a-c-e-y!!” pierces the block, me, dumping my recyclables into the recycle bin with a clangy avalanche of metal and glass, my neighbor’s dog Cookie barking at every little thing (I wonder how old she is now?), such a contemplative difference a little slice of time makes, we might just get of this thing alive, I think…
and I would be remiss if I did not say thanks to anyone who reads this, I appreciate all comments and thoughts, I can only process my own after all, how it affects others is a different animal, that I would like to wrestle some understanding from. (oh, and that last line is a doors thing, I am not going to link to it, to easy)