Delay Delay

I wish that I had a picture to share, but I don’t.

I’m sitting in Belltown right now, on the 12th floor of an office building where I should be entering orders for my temp job, but the server has gone down and I can’t do much about it.  I’m catching up on some reading (Sir Oliver Lodge, I might be equally in love with you as with John Tyndall) and some letter writing, but I haven’t updated this in a long time, so why not use my time here.

The view from here is wonderful, and I really will bring my camera soon.  Monday it was dusk all day here, low clouds and mist, but the past two days have been bright and sunny.  Clear.  Which also translates to: cold.  This morning as I hurried down to the bus frost coated all the lawns and cars lining the street.  I think the temperature plunged below freezing last night, but that’s only a guess.

The mountains were in sharp relief, still catching the colors of sunrise, and I caught other people staring out of the bus windows with me.  There’s something about the beauty of this city that continues to captivate me. 

I’m trying to use my bus commute for more than just travel, and I’ve started to note things down without knowing how they will be used.  I have been so busy lately that I have forgotten the moments throughout the day where stillness enters.  Simply jotting down “sunlight on glass buildings, the glare against the damp road” might help.  I have to be unafraid of notating in cliché.  I can revise it later, but getting down the sketch is important. Even if I end up writing “sunset” “sunrise” and “beautiful” way too often.  In reading for book club I found I tend to notice specific categories of words/images for each author, and I have to learn to trust my own.

More about Sir Oliver Lodge (and Sir Walter Rayleigh, and Lord Kelvin, and and and) here.