Maybe the last little bit of rain for a while this morning as we drank coffee, so we got a walk along the greenway and took the long way back around the block, and were home in time to take the glass company’s call about possible window fixes. It looks like next weekend might be warmer and clearer.
I haven’t trod the boards in years, and I’ve never actually gotten on a skateboard, but I try to take pictures of them whenever they pass. There’s never a decisive moment I’m quick enough to capture, but there’s always a feeling of readiness and desire at seeing them wheel past with grace and ease.
A. and I met up with a couple of friends who crossed the bay, braving traffic and full parking lots, to pick stalks of wild fennel and gawp at poppies along trails, wander marina stalls, chat over midday public market meals and noodle on ukuleles and weigh multiple guitars’ looks, feels and styles.
I took a lap this afternoon around one of those San Francisco intersections that folds in on itself in more than the usual amount of directions, and felt a little shiver go up my spine at the sight of a driverless car waiting in traffic for a green light, different than the other mapping-app cars.
Books against the shelf behind me on the morning call I took, but no booked time on another meeting with another representative. So I swung and missed on an online security quiz, but then events intervened and swallowed a whole afternoon in gulps almost as large as those going on elsewhere on staff.
There’s no drama in some of these moments, just realization, just noticing and observing and watching parts of an equation move, away from, outside, maybe even beyond you. But even with the discomfort of unnatural things in motion, natural things like clouds and sun keep going, and so should you.
Rain kept creeping in at the edges of things, and the radar function of my phone’s weather app never quite nailed it down, so it was there in the slow crawl into Oakland, and then dousing the porch back home in the early evening, and it’ll probably start streaking the bedroom window within the hour.
Got through another worrying gauntlet, and heard trumpets sound from a distant castle, and learned of a famed troubadour’s benighted departure, and made plans to meet up soon with one of my favorite cavaliers, so if the world wants to get medieval, I still prefer to counter with a bit of modernity.
Filling in answers frantically during late morning coffee during language practice, filling up the gasoline tank while not looking directly at the police officers briefly questioning a man sitting in a parked car before driving away, filling out a text form and waiting on tomorrow’s appointed hours.
It’s the first day of the Berkeley bike club’s yearly omnium race which meant seeing a small crew use leaf blowers and other tools to ensure reasonably clear bike paths yesterday during our drive home, and then seeing hundreds of cyclists on our way out and my way back zipping up and down the road.
