The color of light angles into cooler shades, as the nip in the air gradually overtakes the warm lingering glow. Seasons transition as fluidly as day turns into night, and while we’re busy living, nature quietly affirms its continuity around every corner.
Seagulls, other birds and sea lions call across the misty morning waters. Geese enter from the north. Two herons quietly soar by, not too high over the shore. Silent giants.
The clock in the square strikes a happy chime signaling 10am, then curiously shifts to a monotonous, somber bell to count out the hours. Even the clock seems to be disaffected by the persistent agitation that is covid, sighing as it goes through the motions, perhaps emptied of the usual spirit that would fill the space here with communal bustle and hubbub. The fountain nearby splashes meditatively, layering a touch of white noise onto the atmosphere.
Walk out into the river, and the surround sound of cascade and flow immerses the senses. Suddenly, thought is vanquished by nature’s echoes and vibrations blending across the frequency spectrum, favoring the range usually reserved for the human voice, whether from within or without.
I took my aging car in for an overdue oil change yesterday. I wasn’t expecting much, as the “quick change” places generally want to process and get you out as quickly as possible. I can see both sides of the argument: someone in a hurry doesn’t likely want to be up-sold on things, nor do they want to idly chit-chat. On the other side, if they’re busy in the shop, they need to keep the line moving.