far too much writing, far too many photos

The morning routine had me so absorbed this a.m. that I didn’t really glance out a window before leaving the flat. So when I stepped out of the building, the sight of snow falling took me completely by surprise. Snow — lots of it, really coming down. None of your gentle, lyrical flurries. The air thick with big, flat flakes dropping as if they meant business. Not that there was any accumulation -– it all melted on contact with street/sidewalks. But it had the look of the kind of weather that could turn genuinely serious at any moment.

But beautiful. Lovely. Quieting urban hubbub the teeniest bit in the way that snow does.

Some folks walked with umbrellas opened, others with collars turned up, shoulders hunched. (I fell into that second group.) And snow continued coming down, the tires of passing cars making a sssshhh-ing noise on wet pavement.

Temperatures eased overnight, bringing rain. Lots of rain. Not as pretty, but it has its upsides — apart from watering earth that does not normally get much rain through much of the year, it washes away lots of salt and dog poop. (Salt: tossed everywhere in feverishly excessive amounts at the first sight of falling snow. Dog poop: an unfortunate aspect of daily life in this barrio.)

Meanwhile, I’ve been riding busses around the city center a whole lot lately. Forgot how much of an adventure squeezing one of those vehicles through old, narrow streets can be — up and down hills, with only inches to spare on either side. Considering all that, it is amazing (in a hair-raising way) how certain bus drivers hurtle along, as if the speed of light was the goal, and a miracle that they don’t leave a trail of flattened pedestrians in their wake. Makes for good, harrowing entertainment.

Approaching warp-speed:

I challenge anyone to sit through one of those rides and ponder the problems and miseries of their life. With the continuous stopping, starting and heaving about, it’s impossible. One has to slip into a state of urban zen, existing in the present, high-intensity moment, hands gripping whatever will keep you anchored in one place, body jerking this way and that with the movement of the vehicle.

Good therapy, though not necessarily of the variety that might promote inner peace. It will, however, promote a huge sigh of relief when feet hit pavement at the end of the ride.

España, te amo.

One Response to “”

  1. JustMeKimberly

    I still think that your posts are intriguing.

Leave a Reply

Proudly powered by WordPress. Theme developed with WordPress Theme Generator.
Copyright © runswithscissors. All rights reserved.