Observation – October 4th, 2019, Friday

It is 6:00 and I am at the airport in Minneapolis.

The concourse is teeming with people, travelers.

I am flying to New York to see my friend and watch the Twins battle the Yankees.

There is reggae playing at a bar I am sitting at.

The bar is closed.

I was the first to take a seat here, and now the number of people has multiplied.

A cooked poked his head out from the kitchen, he looked like he is wondering what we are all doing sitting here.

He looked a little nervous, like he is wondering how the day will begin, starting with a full house.

I wonder if it is normal, or if my precipitous seating brought about the wave.

Observation – June 2nd, 2017, Friday


The morning sun is streaming in through my kitchen window


Reflecting off a stack of boxes against my book case


The morning sun is bright, and flashing


The day promises to be sunny hot


There is a for sign in the yard next to the sidewalk


It says for sale


I anticipate the footfall of strangers


Walking through my domicile


There are transition coming, I can see them


My cat is sleeping blissfully