I don’t see any birds today. The sky is heavy and dark and foreboding, so maybe they’re prepared, hunkering down.
Sheltering in place.
It looks like it will rain any minute.
We can’t control what’s above us, really. The planet will do what the planet will do.
And we can’t control what’s ahead of us, really. The future will do what the future will do.
But we can look up. We can take in the smooth underbelly of the clouds, pushing through in undulating grays, and see the bright stripes of gold between.
We can look to the horizon, a watercolor swipe of colors too intertwined to separate, sliding into that curved mantle above.
And we can look to the birds, who know when to stay put.
Take a second today to look up, and just see what you see. Have a great Wednesday.
Sometimes I feel outside of time, like I’ve lost track of the order. Me and Billy Pilgrim, Kurt Vonnegut’s unstuck in time protagonist from Slaughterhouse Five.
So here we are, already well into August, the year 2016 a roaring train steaming past all the stops. Each day is a day, the normal length, but they slip and slide over one another until there is a pile and we’re eight months in.
A Bit to Read 