After an absence of nearly a week, a mourning dove came by the balcony this evening. I just caught a glimpse, and to me, it looked young, as it moved its bright-eyed head. A flash of tail feathers, and it was gone. Did it really leave a small stick behind?
That was a few days ago. The doves haven’t returned, but a snake has taken up residenice in the front yard. It seems happy, and I can be happy as long as I know where it and isn’t. The blog posts are out of sequence a bit, and I’m not sure why. Today I ventured out more than I ordinarily have, and found myself in traffic. I let many cars pass, as I did not need to be anywhere in a hurry. How strange not to rush for the bus, gambling on finding a parking lot at the nearest station, or skipping the exit for something over the bridge. How strange not to be rushing through South Station, grabbing a bite to eat on the way to class, and after class is over, rushing back to station to make it home by midnight. I would like those days to be in the past. I don’t mind teaching, but I do mind a commute that is longer than the time I actually spend on campus. Yet weren’t those the days, to be grateful for a seat alone in a compartment, falling asleep until the bus ground to a noisy halt?