I am in one of my other happy places right now. Breakfast time. I love breakfast. It is the absolute best meal of the day.
I pried myself out of bed this morning when the cat began to rattle the doorknob from the hallway, begging to be fed. Little punk. We're eating breakfast together now, so all is well. I made myself an egg on toast, per usual, with a glass of milk. The coffee is brewing, and the whole kitchen smells homey. I even cracked the balcony door and lit some incense, just to add to the fresh mood of the morning. Bliss.
It's finally an overcast morning. There has probably been only one other instance where that has happened since school started. The weather has been all hunky-dory as of late. I could personally use a good thunderstorm to clear things up, but I'm not sure how I'd get that to happen.
I've made some interesting observations as of late that I haven't found time to sit down and tell you about. So I'll just tell them to you in no random order.
Story #1: Mysterious Invisible Girl.
So I was sitting at the bus stop by my apartment, waiting to go places as usual, when this girl walks up. Now, I see many Islamic women where I live, and I think they always look so regal in their flowing garments and hijabs. But it's common enough that I never really take stark notice. Unlike this girl. I don't know what branch of Islam she followed, but she was covered head to toe in black. But it wasn't a burka. At least not the traditional kind. Her shoes and socks were black, her skirt long and black, her top long and black with a flowing dark-gray mantle thing over it. Her gloves were black and embroidered with flowers on the back. And her head was completely covered with a black veil. It struck me as being even more unusual than a burqa, just because she was so...stylish. She even had a matching black bag and wallet. I know this, because I ended up unconsciously sitting next to her on the bus. I don't know why she was so intriguing to me, but I suppose it was pretty unusual around here.
Think about it--you couldn't even tell what skin color this girl had. There was no face, no eyes, no hair, nothing that would be able to identify her as anything but a girl in all black. It was a little eerie.
Now here's the part that really kinda weirded me out. As I sat next to her, she pulled out her phone, and with her gloved fingers, punched in a number and started listening. And then she began to speak. Now, call me close-minded, but when I see someone with a very very cultural look going on around here, I am going to figure that they also will sound fairly foreign. No. She had a PERFECT American accent. It was like hearing myself talk from behind that veil. I still don't know why that stuck out to me so much.
And I noticed that the guy across form me also had a very nice watch. It had a dark, charcoal gray face, and the second hand was a nice slim orange thing. Classy.
Story #2: Happy Child
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| something like this. |
Anyways, so I was sitting at the bus stop on 4th Street and 15th the other evening after French class. I'd stopped in CVS to pick up who knows what, and had ambled out into the chilly, windy night, and plunked myself down on the bus bench to gaze out one the glowing skyline of far-off Minneapolis as I waited.
It was then that I noticed the child. He was with his parents, a lovely Indian couple, as they also waited for the bus. The little boy probably not much older than 2 years old, but he could run rather quickly with his arms bent upwards like little kids do. He was running between his parents on the wide sidewalk. They stood about twenty feet apart, and he ran back and forth between them, emitting a delighted shriek as he ran. Every time one of them would catch him, he'd giggle uproariously, and squirm to go it again. The parents were laughing and cooing at him in the way that doting parents do.
As I sat there, my eyes riveted on the happy scene, I felt as if I'd caught a glimpse into a private window of this family's joyful existence. But I couldn't stop watching. It made me so happy.
As we boarded the bus, the father was held the boy in his arms. I smiled at the little guy, and he gave me that uncertain scowl that little kids do when they don't know what to think of you. His dark little eyebrows scrunched up, and his chin tilted into his little neck. I laughed, boarded the bus, and mused over the little moments I had just shared with a family I may never encounter again.
I'd like to tell you more things, but I should probably go finish up breakfast and get ready to begin the day.
Enjoy these quiet moments, people. It's well worth it.
And make yourself a nice breakfast every once in a while :)
Audios.
Songs of the Week:
La Valse Des Montres by Yann Tiersen
Fragile Forest by Timbre
Kyrie Eleison by Timbre
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