At the Post Office: Calm and Slow

Being in the post office affords me a certain stillness. There's usually a short line. At the main post office, however, the lines are long and you could wait a good 15 minutes before your turn. I always like to look around, observe the people, the notecard sets on the wall, the postal clerks. I have yet to see a speedy postal clerk. They all move at their own slow pace, like they have all day, chit chatting with each other. 

The good thing is I don't usually go to the post office in a rush; otherwise, I just might find myself annoyed. But the great thing about seeing people go so slow and calm is that it reminds you that life doesn't have to be a rush. If you go too fast you can miss out on many simple and beautiful moments; they'll slip by like sand streaming quickly through an hour glass and before you've had time to look up, times up–little kernels of sand are gone and where did they go?

Whenever I'm in the post office, I wonder what it would be like to work there. I think I'd like it. I'd like helping people figure out how to fill out the forms for shipping their goods, I'd like to smile and offer them a pleasant experience at my window. I don't know...maybe there are other reasons I can see myself there–or I sort-of want to see myself there. In part I think it goes back to my childhood, but that's a post for another day.

For now, I like the association that I have of the post office: A calmness and sense of slowing down. And the thing is I find myself at the post office a little more now, since I often need stamps–and the reason I need stamps is yet another post for another day, that I've been churning around in my head because I can't decide my angle, where my point of entry is. That's the fun thing about writing: There really are so many modes, so many containers, and ways to begin; and at the same time, sometimes there's so much that it can be hard to decide what to include. I'll jot down small bits as starting points in my Notes App to get something down, and when I have my mind set, I will come back to the notes and maybe use some parts or use them as a reminder or a starting point. It's like keeping these jottings on a writing back burner, simmering away.

**

About the photo: Recently we took a trip to Carmel-by-the-Sea and I took a photo of the P.O. Boxes on a Sunday when no one was around. Well, one gentleman was coming around the corner, as you can see. I couldn't believe how old these boxes were. It was great. I have a P.O. box locally and it has a key. These look like they unlock by combination. I should have taken more photos and close ups...next time.

Two Precious Moments

Tonight on our way home from dinner, we stopped at Target because hubby needed to get something. I didn't need anything, so I moseyed on over to the books–just looking. I was about to turn toward the picture books just for fun to see what's out there and what I saw filled me with such a tender feeling.

Little girl, three or four

with daddy 

sitting on the 

bottom shelf of 

the children's section,

both reading their own books. 

She turns a page, engrossed.

Daddy switches from reading on his iPad to

taking a photo of his darling little girl reading her book,

then both

side by side again.

**

This made me think of another precious moment that I witnessed back in May. I was walking past the park on a lunch break and I saw a little girl with beautiful dark chocolate skin. She was with her father and younger brother. She was running, and as she ran her braids swung back and forth. I watched as she chased the yellow butterfly, running and running and giggling–a part of me was running along by her side. That was the highlight of that May day.

Two Trees ~ Two Crows

Two trees planted on the city walk outside the brick building between a bed of of vibrantly colored pansies, orange marigolds, and yellow and pink snapdragons.

I pass them on my walks and watch them change. But over the years I haven’t seen the contrast of these two trees, side by side, where one appears in its Winter wear: lifeless in color, dried pods hanging; the other shedding its Winter coat, beaming with soft pink blossoms peeking out from their pods.

The first time I pass and notice the juxtaposition: Life and death flash before me. Death and birth holding hands in these two trees, and I looking on in awe because something about this image stirs deep down because today these two trees speak to me about life and death; birth and rebirth.

The succeeding times I pass, new growth continues on the Spring tree while the Winter tree is still sleeping, then at last, the Winter tree has begun to show signs of life and it is dormant no more.

**

crow overlooks the city at dusk

from high tree branches—caw-caw—
joined by a second crow
caw-caw turns a sweet purr.

December Night

December Night

Happy puppy licking the back window. The sun that rose in the bedroom window this morning, I see up over the hill as I drive in the opposite direction, it now sets--a large burnt tangerine globe going down the mountain. I pass the tree lot. Lights around the perimeter glow softly. Families scurrying to find the perfect tree. What happens to those trees that remain I always wonder. Back into the earth they came from--mulch, I suppose. The cold in the air clips my nose. The stark trees silhouetted, stark naked, sharing the space with other trees that still hold their autumn foliage close to their breast. It is the season of holiday lights and people running around in good cheer and the crows harking in the background. And to all a good night.

**

I originally wrote this on December 8. I was driving to the store the long way and the calm affect of the drive opened me to the night. The puppies are what got me and the everything was filled with emotion after that. I wanted to pull over but there wasn't anywhere and I was nearing my destination. I pulled into the parking lot and pulled out my iPod Touch and began tapping out my musings. I kept them the way they flowed out--without edits.

This is an unrelated photo of nighttime-- unrelated in the sense that it was a different day. 

Happy Day & Writing and Creating!