on the 2 stuck behind the 36 trolley

On a cold, cold night the bus has come free from the electric cable. The drivers swing the wide poles back to the wire. The connection sparks causing a flash of blue flame into the bitter air. It is a magical moment. Then it is over and the drivers laugh, return to their respective buses, traffic moves, we all go our ways.

Snow Day

A pack of children walks down the sidewalk through the flurrying snow. They are about 30 in number, 4th graders perhaps, flanked by 4 or 5 adults. They walk, dance, skip and sing down the sidewalk, nothing like Madeline style. There are no two straight lines, but instead a bevy of boisterous children swinging their swim bags, seemingly oblivious to the cold and snowflakes. Probably more like my namesake in spirit if not in form.

Last night they dreamed of a day off from school, mounds of white fluff, snow men and sledding. This morning they awoke to disappointment and only a smattering of snow. Now, though, their disappointment is forgotten and they are happy to plot with their classmates, traverse to the local pool through the still falling snow.

Spiders

There is one spider clinging to the side of my apartment building. I can't say it makes me happy, but nevertheless, I admire it every time I walk under the web where it is hanging. (I cringe and side step too). In autumn Seattle becomes a mass of spiders, casting their webs on ever corner, bush, tree and railing. I don't know why, but I certainly do shudder internally when I look at their fat, fat, frog like bodies and excessive pointy legs. Perhaps it is because they move so unpredictably, or because they look so alien. Or, because they bite. I tell myself that they are good for insect control and that most spiders found in Seattle are not poisonous in a lethal sort of way. Still, the older I get the less I like them.

This lone spider has somehow survived winter. Or it was hatched too early and now it struggles in a February world where there is a paucity of insects and frequent rain and wind. I admire you little spider, but please stay far from me.

so much for broken promises

I wandered away from the beach and ended up lost on a snow field. Despite my vow to blog every day, I found it difficult to type when my fingers were like ice. A golden retriever (accompanied by a nice man) led me back to the trail and I made it back home eventually. Needless to say I didn't blog.

However, I do have a date for coffee on Thursday.

February, but we have faith that someday the sun will return.

I looked out my window this afternoon to see the large winter tree blooming in song birds. Little bitty grey-brown personages flitting from branch to branch, hanging upside down and filling the tree with life normally reserved for another season. The tree reaches up high above the neighbors two story house and every part of it is full of these small chirpers. I don't know why they have decided to congregate in this particular tree, but here they are.

In the tea shop

I come here to work on grey days in part for the community in part for the voyeurism. The peculiar older man who is always here asks me what I am reading currently. He has started an informal book club with some of the women and another man who frequents the shop. At the table next to me a couple chats almost imperceptibly bickering. She is playing a game on her cell phone the entire time they are having tea. Their conversation in friendly, natural but suddenly rises into tension and then disperses. She wants to buy a tea cup like the one in the shop. He thinks they should use what they have rather than buying new stuff. She thinks the problem is the lack of storage. He doesn't like the new storage rack she wants to put in. She thinks his idea would be bad because of the cat. Mundane. But laced with irritability.

Paranoia

That bird is back. It is dark out side, but when I went out to empty the trash there was a raven in the bare tree across the street. Still, roosting perhaps, but one eye open. Watching me. I could swear he was smirking at me.

Sound Symphony In the UW Fountain

I am afraid I haven't written in awhile. I went to Minneapolis for Thanksgiving and have been utterly consumed with work since I have been back. Not the fun kind of work either, the work to pay the bills type work.
I met a friend for lunch today in the U dist and I ended up walking through the UW campus. I don't spend much time there anymore and I forget how beautiful it really is. (on a sunny day of course).

The fountain was frozen over and an industrious student had broken large sheets of ice and collected them along the side. I watched him toss the fragments across the frozen pond where they shattered in bell like tones across the fountain. I really wished I had a recording device to capture the symphony of chimes and tinkles created by the breaking pieces of ice. A loud deep creak as the sheets were separated and then a cascade of lighter sounds. I wonder if he was paying attention to the sound or just exhilarating in the smashing.

This spectacular sequence was punctuated for me by a couple of students at the bus stop discussing the fact that the library computers had been tested and found to contain a strain of fecal bacteria. Being me I didn't want to butt in, but I felt a strong urge to tell them that I am pretty sure there are traces of fecal matter everywhere. It always comes back to feces in the end I guess.