Nonurgency
The sun is setting golden behind the trees and my balcony looks like heaven except 100 degrees. Summer is overstaying its welcome already. I miss the trees. Really seeing them. I miss wide open spaces and the nonurgency of long days moving through them. There's a lot to hold my attention here in the city. Plenty to rush off to, lots to catch up on, the sense that things are extremely important yet easily forgettable. Fleeting. The secret you never hear is that it can never be fully accomplished. This city life is a steady stream of go-here, do-this, be-better, make-more. A steady stream of appear-successful, don't-forget. A constant queue of attention grabbers and reasons to hurry. Constant, meaning, can't be stopped. Not by finishing one more task, or getting one more paycheck, or saying, "Let me fix this last problem"... life will rush on. The thing about a tree is that nothing happens quickly. Days and hours and storms and heat, sunlight and seasons c...