Tonight might be a good time for cliches.
Nobody ever accused me of being a "man of few words." Hell, just this blog alone, contains probably ~500,000 words in English, not to mention the other languages that I post in, when the mood strikes me.
"A picture is worth 1,000 words." Actually, I do not agree with this one. But, I am a writer, not a photographer. As is the case with most folks, I suspect, I yearn to be what I cannot be, in this case, a photographer.
Today's weather was fantastic. We spent half the day in Marin, and the second half in the Mission.
As I age, I've begun to appreciate what, when I was younger, puzzled me, and that is a deep, almost primal appreciation for the beauty of other animals and for plants.
I was always enamored of the vines that hung from big trees at Ludington, or the fish that swam up our ditches in Bay City. I always loved trees and blueberry bushes.
But I didn't necessarily feel an urgent need to document their lives.
Now, I do. Why? Is it that I am old?
Near sunset, my young boys and I took a walk. We breathed the sweet, warm air, and agreed it felt good to be out together, without having to bundle against the usual cold.
Meyer lemons are sweet; these are courtesy of our friends, Eve and Sam. They recently married, a romantic moment between two youthful people whose combined age (150) really seems like half as much. They are runners. Sam recently ran the Boston Marathon. Both will probably run in this year's 50th Dipsea!
As night fell, I sat in my backyard and gazed upwards.
I saw a jet far overhead, flying out toward Hawaii or Asia. I heard birds settling into trees, chirping their night calls.
I felt a shiver of familiarity, as I walked back up my stairs and looked into my house. "Always on the outside, looking in."
Now there is a cliche I can embrace.
-30-
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