Angel,
With the official start of Autumn the weather changed as
if on queue. Suddenly, the days are shorter, colder, and rainier - the sun does
not arc as high, leaving even mid-day shadow stretched before us.
Fall has come and in the grit of this city there are
signs of the coming winter that cannot be ignored. In our early weekday morning,
those of us who shuffle to meet the downtown streetcar mingled with the
remaining night time underworld dwellers, we are all stopped and faces turned
to the sky. All of us held frozen in a shared moment to follow the fast flight
and call of low flying geese.
There is something unearthly, eerie, and primal in their
haunting call and we cannot help but feel the sudden urge that we must now
prepare for the winter that will come. We all feel the shared stirring - our
signal to hurry and to slow down. The message to take advantage of what warmth
and light we have now must be used to full advantage for it will not last..
A moment we have all stopped but with their passing so
passes the memory of this shared experience. As the honking fades we all turn back
to our private drudgery - each to our own little worlds.
And I wait for the bright lights of the coming
streetcar.
Just me.
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