An observation
You know those moments of zen that are so captivatingly beautiful that they knock you off your feet? I had one today.
My morning started in a rush, as it does every morning, but coupled with the fact that I went to bed too late and the fact that the baby woke up in the middle of the night, my personal routine in the morning was rearranged. No matter, I left the house on time, just fine.
But through some stroke of weird timing, I managed to get behind not one, but three cars with Florida license plates (which, if you know Floridian drivers, you understand why this is significant), twice got cut off by people moving into my lane for no apparent reason, and basically intercepted at every pass. It was like a Monday on quaaludes.
Until I arrived a red light (which is probably the longest light ever timed), and, to the ballet of a Mozart flute concerto, I watched thousands of birds circle together in unending rhythmic waves, around and around in the pink glow of dawn, high above the masses of telephone wires at the large intersection.
It was the one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen.
So while watching this dance, I began to think about the path I'd just traveled, the soul-sucking commute that manages without trying very hard to sap inspiration dry like a giant mosquito, and I watched those birds circle together in the sunrise, and my heart nearly broke.
Inspiration sometimes finds you anyway.
My morning started in a rush, as it does every morning, but coupled with the fact that I went to bed too late and the fact that the baby woke up in the middle of the night, my personal routine in the morning was rearranged. No matter, I left the house on time, just fine.
But through some stroke of weird timing, I managed to get behind not one, but three cars with Florida license plates (which, if you know Floridian drivers, you understand why this is significant), twice got cut off by people moving into my lane for no apparent reason, and basically intercepted at every pass. It was like a Monday on quaaludes.
Until I arrived a red light (which is probably the longest light ever timed), and, to the ballet of a Mozart flute concerto, I watched thousands of birds circle together in unending rhythmic waves, around and around in the pink glow of dawn, high above the masses of telephone wires at the large intersection.
It was the one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen.
So while watching this dance, I began to think about the path I'd just traveled, the soul-sucking commute that manages without trying very hard to sap inspiration dry like a giant mosquito, and I watched those birds circle together in the sunrise, and my heart nearly broke.
Inspiration sometimes finds you anyway.