I saw an
old man on a bicycle, peddling down the sidewalk, disappearing as my car passed
him. He was wearing a cap and singing a song, and for some reason it just
struck me as something sort of extraordinary.
Every
day things are strange and wonderful. We've grown so accustomed to the extraordinary that we no longer are awed.
I wish things were still a mystery.
I still
long to stare at things and wonder.
I think
some of my favorite things – my favorite songs, poems, words, pictures – are an
implication. Just a nod.
A nod in
a direction, and if you tried too hard to grab on to it and bring it into the
light so that you could see it quite clearly, it would swiftly flee. It lends
itself to understanding that what remains unsaid are powerful words.
There are
some things you must let others see for themselves without telling them how to
see it.
Every Friday I see my Friday customers and I always am shocked to find myself at the end of the week again. Never fails. Even though things are fast-paced in life & work I'm enjoying the cozy Christmas-y moments whenever I can grab them. Rosie Thomas is singing holiday tunes right now and it's lovelylovelylovely. I've decorated at work a good deal including make some hand-crafted snowflakes & paper chains [we do love our paper crafts]. I've been doing some knitting/crocheting/sewing [until my machine pooped out on me].
I'm thinking these days of words that start with T.
tethered & tension.
it makes sense.
Yesterday I saw a man in Walgreens.
He was older, dressed in an overcoat and wearing glasses. He looked like he had just gotten off work and was picking up something sweet and heart-shaped to bring home. Soft, jazzy Christmas music played in the background and he stared at the chocolates as I passed him the first time and then as I passed him again to go pay.
He had stopped thinking about the chocolates and was maybe thinking about who he was getting the chocolates for, or maybe why he was bringing them.
Or maybe he was just thinking about work, the day behind him.
Regardless, when we left he had stepped up to the counter to pay - no chocolates in his hand.
People make you wonder, don't they?
Yesterday I saw a man in Walgreens.
He was older, dressed in an overcoat and wearing glasses. He looked like he had just gotten off work and was picking up something sweet and heart-shaped to bring home. Soft, jazzy Christmas music played in the background and he stared at the chocolates as I passed him the first time and then as I passed him again to go pay.
He had stopped thinking about the chocolates and was maybe thinking about who he was getting the chocolates for, or maybe why he was bringing them.
Or maybe he was just thinking about work, the day behind him.
Regardless, when we left he had stepped up to the counter to pay - no chocolates in his hand.
People make you wonder, don't they?
3 comments:
I was going into the bank the other day when I looked over and saw a fellow on the other side of the parking lot, walking toward the train station. I didn't know why I noticed - thought at first it was just my people-watching habit at work - then something about his walk and his enormous backpack seemed familiar... and I realized it was your dad! Ha!
But he was too far away by then for me to call out a greeting, so I just watched him go, wondered just how long it had been since we'd talked, and felt nostalgic for art class days as I went about the rest of my Christmas lights and gray sky day.
One of those not-quite-ordinary moments.
ALSO, and kind of unrelated: Are you familiar with music artist The Boy Who Trapped The Sun? He's a native of the Isle of Lewis, and I'm loving the song and music video he recorded there: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kgxpDkOQj0
Just in case you might appreciate it too. :)
I do too, Faith. I keep begging my mom to take me to the school to see him so we can just have a chat, or something.
I miss it.
There aren't enough artist 'round these parts...
Faith, thanks for the music! I love getting new recommendations, I've been listening to his other stuff too. :]
And I think my Dad seeing you two as well, he misses those old art class days.
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