Thanksgiving

This year I find myself so thankful that, when the fog of work lifted, the astonishing beauty of the city waited for me. It really is a gift from the world to head out the door, bike around the corner, and be dazed already by beauty: light on the cracks in pavement, laced with bluestake lines; blowing leaves along the curb, echoing the wheeling birds; a patch of grass and a sunlit flash of foil; everywhere the poles and wires, lined with birds at the end of the day; the long alleys with their hints of eternity. My city is extravagant with beauty, exploding with it, drenched with inexplicable beauty.  I ride out in it, collecting treasure.

Posted in Art