Left the house at around 8:25 a.m.; first thing I saw was a hawk swooping toward the park, a small shadow of something in its talons. It kept lighting on branches then lifting off, finally flapping out of sight. I couldn't see details, because the sun was in front of him; only silhouette.
I walked on, stopped for coffee and hopped on the train.
Got off, and felt utterly surrounded by the sounds of shuffling feet, shifting bags and ultra loud PA announcements in the underground cave of the Wood Street Station. It seemed, for lack of a better word, really enormous. Because I began to think of people all over the world, shuffling off to work on a January Monday.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment