Monday, February 15, 2010
sun strokes
The sun has value beyond simple aesthetics – so opined a court in a decision I discussed in class today.
Of course, the dissenting opinion strongly disagreed. That’s the nature of the game: you can always find a naysayer in court.
I’m with the majority here. Indeed, I’ll go so far as to offer up a whole week of spring days if only I can have a guarantee of one week of sunny days in late February.
Five years ago, I discovered a café that would be my café of choice for several years – until I left the downtown in favor of condo living. (Was it a good decision? Probably not, in hindsight, but few of us are born with eyes that can look beyond the moment.)
Early this morning, I find myself close by and so I stop for breakfast coffee. The sun strokes the Tuscan colors on the wall. Nice, I think. Nice.
Maybe I should have never left, I say to the café owner.
She laughs. Hindsight games.
Heading back to my office, I walk up toward the Square. The sun is gone now. Prickly snow flakes appearing out of nowhere are a poor substitute. Color? Oh, you can always find color. Earlier, I saw it in a store window. Hiding behind strips of film.
Now it's evident in a church door, and on the square itself.
But one hour into the cloudy morning, I sure as hell miss the sun.
P.S. I appreciate comments, I do, and I know that the clutter in the sidebar keeps this message well-hidden for the casual reader, but, just so you know – I’ll only publish a comment that has a name attached to it. Silly rule, considering. But I do stick with it.
Of course, the dissenting opinion strongly disagreed. That’s the nature of the game: you can always find a naysayer in court.
I’m with the majority here. Indeed, I’ll go so far as to offer up a whole week of spring days if only I can have a guarantee of one week of sunny days in late February.
Five years ago, I discovered a café that would be my café of choice for several years – until I left the downtown in favor of condo living. (Was it a good decision? Probably not, in hindsight, but few of us are born with eyes that can look beyond the moment.)
Early this morning, I find myself close by and so I stop for breakfast coffee. The sun strokes the Tuscan colors on the wall. Nice, I think. Nice.
Maybe I should have never left, I say to the café owner.
She laughs. Hindsight games.
Heading back to my office, I walk up toward the Square. The sun is gone now. Prickly snow flakes appearing out of nowhere are a poor substitute. Color? Oh, you can always find color. Earlier, I saw it in a store window. Hiding behind strips of film.
Now it's evident in a church door, and on the square itself.
But one hour into the cloudy morning, I sure as hell miss the sun.
P.S. I appreciate comments, I do, and I know that the clutter in the sidebar keeps this message well-hidden for the casual reader, but, just so you know – I’ll only publish a comment that has a name attached to it. Silly rule, considering. But I do stick with it.
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