As I peddle back from yoga, I stop at an intersection's red light. A small elderly woman clutching a plastic water bottle waits to cross in front of me at the sidewalk's edge. Adjacent, a group of yellow-vested construction workers jackhammer away under a sun that is already hot at 9:36AM. Pond's "30,000 Megatons" plays in my earbuds. Sometimes I wonder if we are inching closer to a time in history where the term "megatons" might be seen in the news with increasing frequency. The crosswalk turns green and the woman shuffles out into the road, meeting a homeless man carrying his wares at the halfway point. She deftly hands the water bottle to the homeless man in one fluid motion and they exchange the subtlest of nods and smiles without breaking stride. The light turns green, the men jackhammer away, and I peddle on into a Friday that will surely be a good day.
Fleeting Moments Observed During Movement
Yesterday, I saw a large woman gesticulating a gun fight with her hands to her bemused friend. They were standing next to a strip mall lock'n'key kiosk and it was the golden hour. She was demonstrating in shocking detail what appeared to me from my vehicle, a victim getting shot in the face with either a bullet or an arrow from a bow. I surmised that the victim's brains were blown out. Her friend nodded solemnly. She was very good at telling her story and I was intrigued but then the light turned green and I drove off.
Today, as I biked home against punishing winds, pedaling steadily and passing beneath an overpass, I saw a homeless man standing one foot away from the cement wall, facing it sternly, mere meters from his own bicycle and pitched tent. He was curling a bowling ball for exercise. Was the bowling ball a prized possession, one he was willing to schlep around with his other belongings? Or did he stumble upon it recently, identifying it as a perfect curling weight? I pedaled on and the temperature dipped with the sunset.
I wish I had taken photos of these moments.
