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enteleinToday, the weather was pretty much perfect.
I am still trying to break in a pair of Docs I bought recently, which injected a fairly large dose of misery into the day, but oh man, the weather itself was clear, spun gold. Air that felt balmy and not too breezy, not too still. Not chilling, but so sunny that I wore my sunglasses with pleasure. Not hot, either. Just right.
I sat on a marble ledge across the street from the office for a few minutes on my lunch break and just took it all in. I live in a Major City of the World, and it is full of potential and life. I can feel the river nearby, and the lake, and the bustling noise everywhere, traveling up the columns of skyscraper negative space. Amplified and muddled, thrown back down to us - echoes of the bus, the train, the cab, the tourist, the business deals, the fender benders.
It was strange. When I finally got up to head back across the small balcony I was on, and down a tiered set of marbled steps to the ground so I could cross the street, I was convinced that the walk sign wouldn't last, and I would have to stand for a full cycle at the light, having my hair tossed by the rush of the constant buses on Jackson. But I was able to walk (semi-gingerly, cos of the Docs) across with plenty of time, and I wondered if the midday timing of the streetlights had suddenly been altered for the tourists.
Traffic patterns. Ebb and flow. Things that come in waves. Cycles and patterns and echoes.
A box full of sushi in one hand, heavy change purse in the other.
I am still trying to break in a pair of Docs I bought recently, which injected a fairly large dose of misery into the day, but oh man, the weather itself was clear, spun gold. Air that felt balmy and not too breezy, not too still. Not chilling, but so sunny that I wore my sunglasses with pleasure. Not hot, either. Just right.
I sat on a marble ledge across the street from the office for a few minutes on my lunch break and just took it all in. I live in a Major City of the World, and it is full of potential and life. I can feel the river nearby, and the lake, and the bustling noise everywhere, traveling up the columns of skyscraper negative space. Amplified and muddled, thrown back down to us - echoes of the bus, the train, the cab, the tourist, the business deals, the fender benders.
It was strange. When I finally got up to head back across the small balcony I was on, and down a tiered set of marbled steps to the ground so I could cross the street, I was convinced that the walk sign wouldn't last, and I would have to stand for a full cycle at the light, having my hair tossed by the rush of the constant buses on Jackson. But I was able to walk (semi-gingerly, cos of the Docs) across with plenty of time, and I wondered if the midday timing of the streetlights had suddenly been altered for the tourists.
Traffic patterns. Ebb and flow. Things that come in waves. Cycles and patterns and echoes.
A box full of sushi in one hand, heavy change purse in the other.
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Re: * * * *
Date: 2006-06-06 03:27 pm (UTC)