Thursday

Every morning I awaken to the sound of bird song, usually a robin is the loudest.  Does this happen everywhere?  Makes for a pleasant alarm.

Today's rain drips thick and heavy, pooling like mercury, until the leaf flicks, and it suddenly drops down to soil.

I shake the thought that today is Friday.  It's not, been off all week.

I joined a protest, then joined a march, on one of the days where the sun shone.  For my lunch break.  Walking back to work, I saw the snow goose swimming in a fountain with the Canada geese.  When I returned later to take a photo, all the birds had flown away.

I went back to look again today, but found a small flock of ring-necked ducks in place of all the geese.  Nearby, the herons have returned to nest in the rookery for the season, and I came across my no-longer-mini rabbit for the third time this week, eating grass at the edge of a field.  Now that the crowds have receded, I guess it's safe to come out during the day again.

An old email system is being deleted, so I decided to look through it, see if I needed to save anything.  I was reminded that I had worked with a lot of amazing and compassionate people.  I wouldn't go back there, but it's good to remember.

Perhaps my eyes need to be more wide, more open, more seeing of what is there, and not always what I wish I saw.  That maybe we got lost here somehow, that it was really only catching up, a way to remember who we once were, and no longer are.  (And I wouldn't go back.  Life changes you, that's okay.  Who we've become really is enough.)

Oh, and that's an early call tomorrow.  Guess I'll be catching a cab.