Friday

The birds seem to have broken out in song again this week.  Perhaps it's the slow lengthening of the days, the minutes of daylight added to the morning.  It's as if the sound had been turned back on, to fill a silence I hadn't noticed as emptiness.

Today is one of  the last of the freezing mornings for a while.  Hasn't been this cold in a few years.  Last year, I think we had one freeze.  Made for brilliant sunrises, and clear nights, a full moon, and the brightest Venus I can ever recall.  So bright, I thought it must be a plane in the sky, or a light on a tower somewhere nearby.  Brilliant skies, but no snow here.

Last night I tried to rush up to First Hill to meet a friend for a drink, thinking I could still make choir practice.  Ran late, last minute things at work I had to deal with: a vendor came in late, a lock malfunctioned, etc., and my lack of paying attention to time, meant when I looked at the time, we'd been talking for almost two hours, and I was already late, and in the wrong part of town.  We left, he walked me to my Downtown bus stop, via the scenic route.  I first resisted, my cautious nature out in force in my head, but little by little, gave in to the route (I would never have taken it, and by myself, it wouldn't necessarily have been safe after dark).  I would've walked on well-lit streets.  We cut through various buildings, and a park, trees still lit with holiday lights, water frozen, or on the way to frozen.  Buildings and stairwells generally deserted, but doors unlocked.  There was a certain thrill and magic in it, nothing particularly subversive about it, but it was fun.

I told him later that my "20-year old" would've approved.  My 40-something year old self has become cautious in ways I hadn't noticed.  There isn't anything necessarily wrong with that, but the observation of it hit me pretty strong.  And we change, sure, but sometimes it's so gradual.  And is it just a compromise here and there, changing in increments to do the expected?  And again that's not wrong, but I guess I'd a wished the choice to be more actively conscious; not just a change to blend in with what is acceptable in a generic sense.

And then is the magic magnified in sharing the experience with another human being, versus all the wonder one can experience on their own?  (I mean I can recall road-trips gone wrong, in reality, that stand out as favorite memories because the experience was shared.)

And then I fell asleep with youtube running in the background, which got into my dreams, the voice of a card reader saying, "and this is your soulmate" and I was escaping a friend (who was causing herself trouble in the dream, finally done with the drama, myself) by accepting a ride with an acquaintance (one probably 20 years younger than I, in real life), and trying to get away from the voice, thinking, can't we just see where this goes (and in the dream, I was already seeing someone else).  Why does everything have to be made bigger than what is already there?  It's just an acquaintance.  It's just ride home.  It doesn't need to be more than that.