After work, I walked up 6th to Stark, then up past Powells Books on Burnside before heading back in the direction of my train stop in Goose Hollow. Along the way I saw at least 7 people, wandering aimlessly with hefty black cameras. They looked like I probably do when I’m observing the world through my lens. A camera can stop time and motion and bring the motionless to life. I smiled to myself watching one young woman capturing the ornamental details of a turn of the century building. The ability to see the beauty in brick and mortar, rusted metal or weathered wood is rare. But a well photographed fragment of the world we live in makes the beauty visible to all.
I hopped on the train shortly after arriving at the stop and was happy to find a seat so I could rest my legs and feet. I felt sluggish and overly tired today. It’s not a good sign since I have to walk 5 miles tomorrow during my endurance training. As the MAX train gained speed and entered the tunnel under Washington Park, my eyes settled on a little boy, his feet dangling off the edge of his seat. He had some sort of super hero insignia on his sneakers and they had velcro instead of laces. The motion of the train was lulling him to sleep & his eyelashes fluttered as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Though he was calm and still in that moment I imagined he probably has boundless energy and that his heart beats in his chest without burden. I couldn’t stop watching him. He was so perfect, shiny and new, like a puppy. We got off the train at the same stop and he reached out for his father’s hand, his palm stained with green magic marker and there was a moment, while we all waited for the elevator that he turned and fixed his gaze on me. He was staring, like kids do. I think maybe he was on to me. Yeah….he was definitely on to me.