The weather was dreary and cold, the way winter feels midway.
It’s chilly and a bit windy, all I could think is, “I should of just stayed in bed.”
“At least it was warm and toasty, sleepy,” Now I’m outdoors and the leaves have been
dead, swept and picked up by those huge revolving street cleaning trucks. Instead of seeing beauty, all the trees are bare, naked, branchy silhouettes. They have a nightmarish quality, something Tim Burton would appreciate. And the sky is full of grey claustrophobic clouds, moist, not letting the sun peak through. The streets are wet from a mixture of dew and rain, they’re shiny, glistening, slick. I’m needing the comfort of caffeine, something warm and caramelly, soothing. Something that will perk me up, something that will make my headache go away. The cold seeps in through my pants right around my knees and my converse sneakers are feeling the dampness of the street. I’m feeling underdressed, sluggish, cold as I walk towards the coffeeshop. I walk with my head down trying not to expose my bare neck to the elements, that’s when I see the crack in the pavement, it’s deep and long, it runs all the way through the parking lot. In between the crack, there’s a filament of emerald green moss, resplendent, alive.
My thought turns to poetry:
Like moss that grows in between blackened cracks in the road—
you need to see beauty in the ordinary.
Beauty is everywhere, hidden sometimes from plain view,
from the uninitiated, but it’s there…
Beauty, life, love
shows up in unexpected places and sometimes if we’re lucky, we catch a glimpse of it.
As I walked into the coffeeshop, the sun finally peaked through the clouds that had formed in mind,
It felt reassuring, warm like a shamanistic dance of gratitude, even though my feet were still cold, my heart was aflame–I smiled at the barista and ordered my hot caramel topped libation to go.