A Moment This Morning
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Just a moment in my day.
I overslept this morning, and rushed out of the apartment thinking about all the things that are digging at me. I'm behind on the classes I wanted to prepare this summer, there's a paper I should be writing that isn't going well, colleagues are asking for time in meetings that I begrudge, and I haven't stopped to write a story for a while. All the little straws poking at the camel's back.
And then as I turned the corner by the playground, with today's bright sunshine surrounding me, a golden darning needle hovered and dashed across my path. A dragonfly, but only as long as two joints of my little finger, and a mellow golden color. Having caught my eye, he settled on a concrete corner beside my path and posed, soap film wings stretched out, tiny legs like fine pen strokes under him.
I stopped and admired him. I took a deep breath, and let go of all the straws in the morning sunshine. He waited, patiently, as I enjoyed taking a close look at him.
After a long moment, I stood up again, and walked on to the office. I thought about the golden darning needle that had sewed up today for me, and gifted me with a black reflection of the morning sunshine in its dark eyes.
When we write, we talk to unknown friends.
Just a moment in my day.
I overslept this morning, and rushed out of the apartment thinking about all the things that are digging at me. I'm behind on the classes I wanted to prepare this summer, there's a paper I should be writing that isn't going well, colleagues are asking for time in meetings that I begrudge, and I haven't stopped to write a story for a while. All the little straws poking at the camel's back.
And then as I turned the corner by the playground, with today's bright sunshine surrounding me, a golden darning needle hovered and dashed across my path. A dragonfly, but only as long as two joints of my little finger, and a mellow golden color. Having caught my eye, he settled on a concrete corner beside my path and posed, soap film wings stretched out, tiny legs like fine pen strokes under him.
I stopped and admired him. I took a deep breath, and let go of all the straws in the morning sunshine. He waited, patiently, as I enjoyed taking a close look at him.
After a long moment, I stood up again, and walked on to the office. I thought about the golden darning needle that had sewed up today for me, and gifted me with a black reflection of the morning sunshine in its dark eyes.
When we write, we talk to unknown friends.