Some days, walking to my office feels like the best part of the day. Overhead, the bluebirds and seagulls call to each other, while the scent of alyssum and lilac fills the air.
Ahead of me on the sidewalk, early morning shadows form angular lines, pulling me foreword.
From behind, I hear the pleasant rippling sound of two bicyclists coming up the street.
“Wait for me!” the young girl calls out to a man (her father?) as he bicycles ahead.
I’m still several blocks from my office where, in my mind, the day will officially start; but, in fact, I’ve already edited an essay while sitting in my living room and drinking a cup of coffee.
As a result, I feel as if the day has started before it started, as if my work is done before I get to work.
Ahead of me on the sidewalk, early morning shadows form angular lines, pulling me foreword.
From behind, I hear the pleasant rippling sound of two bicyclists coming up the street.
“Wait for me!” the young girl calls out to a man (her father?) as he bicycles ahead.
I’m still several blocks from my office where, in my mind, the day will officially start; but, in fact, I’ve already edited an essay while sitting in my living room and drinking a cup of coffee.
As a result, I feel as if the day has started before it started, as if my work is done before I get to work.
No comments:
Post a Comment