I wrote nearly a week’s worth of entries this past weekend and set them all up to auto-post each successive day this week. See, I already know this week is going to be hectic at work (and not at work) and figured this would work best. Here’s today’s bits.
The other morning on the way to work the day’s burgeoning weather was so inviting I rolled down all the windows in the car. It was only a few minutes before I realized I had been a bit over-zealous in my enthusiasm, as the sun hadn’t quite had a chance to warm the morning chill and it really wasn’t, after all, windows-down weather just yet.
Too stubborn to admit this even to myself, however, I continued on in goose-pimpled protest, attempting to project a face of “What? You think it’s odd all my windows are down and it’s in the low 50s? It’s you that has the problem, then” to the other drives eying me sideways. And since we all know that windows-down driving only feels right when accompanied by ear-splitting grooves, I cranked the stereo and isolated myself from any sound other than what blared from the speakers.
Half way to work a bird broke from the shrubbery in the median, perhaps spooked by my deafening music but more likely just the routine approach of a vehicle. As he climbed from his hiding place on the ground he paced me perfectly, gliding low at first and then slowly adjusting his pitch to come near level with my head alongside the window. Here we are both traveling at something over forty miles and hour in near perfect lock-step and it was like I could just turn my and look over and say “Hey, what’s up bird?” We were that well-matched.
It was only for a second, though, before he took a stiff turn away from the vehicle and slowed steeply to land again, presumably until the next car came along. For some reason that brief moment of unison spoke to me. Machine and nature, tied together on an invisible string or something.