tisdag, oktober 02, 2007

A Moment

It's darker at this time of year and at this latitude, and at both ends of the day of course. This morning as I returned home at 6:30 to get some work done ahead of the second of nine Tuesday Swedish classes, I was transfixed by the sunrise.

Selby Avenue runs east-west all the way to the Cathedral in my neighborhood overlooking downtown Saint Paul. This morning the sky was pink and lavender like some sort of French field from a calendar.

I wish I had a camera (and camera skill) by which to accurately record this type of image.

So having watched this for the 2 mile drive along Selby I parked, ran up to my apartment to drop off my computer, and picked up my camera. I sallied out.

Odd how one can feel alone at a moment like this; by which I don't mean lonely, but as if this whole thing had been staged simply for you. It's the singularity of interest, I guess, and the darkness. Or the belief in the singularity of interest, which is its own sort of darkness.

I walked the few blocks to the Cathedral snapping pics of the sky. The pink was already going away. By the time I made it to the Cathedral steps, just a few minutes later, the sky had changed.

I paused there on the steps. It was maybe 7:00. A workman was already out doing drainage work--I think--along the front of the rectory. He'd a wheelbarrow full of tools and was digging in the garden, pausing often to replace a sheet of pink foam insulation or weed-barrier panel that seemed to have previously been placed beneath the soil but which he was trying to lean against the building as he dug. It wasn't cooperating. I didn't understand why he didn't just throw it to the side.

A somberly lit bus passed with seven sleepy passengers.

I wandered home along Dayton. A boy skated by wearing those shoes with a wheel in the heel. I crossed the street to avoid teenagers waiting at a bus stop. The Asian kids at Ambassador Preparatory were turning on lights and hopping out of bunk beds. An old woman with a lapdog wished me good morning.


* To Keith as he recovers from his stroke.

* To Nancy as she begins her lung cancer therapy.


Anonymous Sara said...

Your comments always make me smile and laugh. As a side note, you should write a book. Maybe even about Henry. (Henry I can hear your ego inflating, I'm complimenting cK, not you. =D)

Hugs and cheers.

PS: If I haven't said this enough, I'm so glad you're back.

5:57 em  
Blogger Lollie said...

Loved this post.

The geogeek in me wanted you to suggest a geosynthetic of some sort to the workman.

6:00 em  
Blogger cK said...

Thanks for all the love! You rock, Sara and Lol.

And did you know that you are BOTH sick right now? Just how many people did you infect, Sara!? Or, maybe it was Lollie? She did tell me about her cold first....

7:43 em  
Blogger Night Editor said...

Lovely. It's a great view from the Cathedral steps. A writer, John Hildebrand, loves these bookends of the day, when "everything in the world is darker than the sky."

10:23 em  
Blogger ECS said...

Ï'm looking out into the fog of a Norwegian morning that matches the solitary yet peaceful mood of your post so well. (I think) you know how I love these kinds of little stories. The bit about the bus is my favorite for some reason.

1:09 fm  
Blogger cK said...

ECS - I am envious of your travel habits! Living in Iceland and at times working in Norway. (Do you still work in Holland too?)

4:40 fm  

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