proteanme

It is so dark now when I get to work. Coming over the the Hawthorne bridge I have to circle around and ride down under it and I remind myself to look up so I can take in how lovely the bridge is all lit up by the lights on its side. These days, when I get on the tram and look out and everything is dotted with lights — traffic and office buildings and streets and the glass towers that sit at the bottom of the south waterfront. When it’s raining and the tram is fogged up on the inside and covered with big rain drops on the outside, the view is like a water color painting. But on a day like today, when I got lucky enough to hit the half hour dry spell on my ride in, it was just beautifully dark and clear and the way things glimmered felt special.

When I get on the tram, I always look east to see what, if any part, of sunrise I can make out. Today, there was a strip of cloud break and the slightest sliver of pink was just barely visible in that ragged clear stripe. It looked tender and hopeful and kind of magical too. And ever since I saw that, my heart has been feeling so much tenderness that I can’t put it too words.