21 January 2004
It's the little things that sometimes matter most. Tonight I needed to return some stuff to the local library but didn't feel like driving. So I bundled myself up and walked. It was supposed to be rather cold, but I had a warm coat, scarf and gloves on, and to finish off my ensemble I donned my full-cuff headphones. They made great earmuffs, and Morcheeba's Fragments of freedom is great music to listen to while walking. It mixes so many diverse but all upbeat genres of music (well, most all upbeat) and I couldn't help but bounce a little on my way. I didn't want to bounce too much, on account of all the ice still on the sidewalks, but all the while I knew I'd picked the perfect album for the quick trip. It made my evening, really.
It had some stiff competition, and the title isn't set in stone quite yet. During my drive home today I was hearing talk about the space program while doing a little sky gazing of my own. To the south there was a very interesting cloud formationit looked almost like a ridge, being a nearly straight line dividing the clouds and the blue sky. Beyond the ridge were scattered bits and pieces of clouds, and then clear sky and the sinking sun. It wasn't until I hit a stoplight (most of my commute home happens at seventy miles an hour) that I noticed the changes in the clouds. They were moving very quickly, and almost before the stoplight turned green the sky had cleared from north to south and only the low, burning orange sun remained. Years have passed since I last watched the clouds, and frankly I'd forgotten just how quickly they could move. The speed was almost unnatural; it felt like halfway between real life and Koyaanisqatsi.