The Beautiful

Drat.

I’ve reached that point where I’ve so many stories and entries to make that I’m just kind of tossing them all out the window and starting fresh. I may make a lame effort to recapture all that has transpired, if only to jar my memory in some future respite — as I’m certain all of you hate those dry entries, and I wish I would not you suffer them.

This morning was a beautiful morning. Not in any exceptional way, but in an average way, which is what made it exceptional. At 8 am, as I left my vehicle and started up the steps which inevitably bring me to the front entrance of my building, at that moment I was struck by the simple cleanness of the air. The crisp blue of my complimentary shadow on the steps cut from the orange radiance of the ascending sun. The coolness of the shadow, and the the gentleness of the warmth on my back. And the quietness…

My office is adjacent to an elementary school. The school is on a major arterial, we are behind the school on a low traffic neighborhood street. Some mornings I am overwhelmed by traffic noise. Other mornings, the noise in my head as I approach my job is all that I can hear. This morning, I noticed it was quiet. Tranquil. It was so quiet I could hear…

“..for purple mountain majesties, Above the fruited plain!”

Part of the patriotism exercises conducted every morning in various forms in classrooms across the country. Sung simply, sung boldly, sung strongly and in key…

“America! America! God shed his grace on thee

And crown thy good with brotherhood

From sea to shining sea!”

I didn’t hear the noise of my job until well after I was sitting at my desk.