Oct 25

tn_stormThis morning I woke up facing the mountains.  The sun hadn’t come up yet, but was just starting to beat back the night and the sky was shifting from black to blue to purple to lavender.  But as the light slowly poured in, I realized that this morning was going to be different from yesterday when the mountain skyline was crisp and brilliant.  There weren’t any mountains today.  In their place were blurry splotches of white, as if God was trying to blot out the horizon with gigantic cotton balls.  I knew what that meant.  There was a storm blowing in.  Soon it would get to me.  Soon

I sat like that until the night was officially extinguished and a growing stream of cars began to pulse on the arteries below…Highway 36, Sheridan, 104th.  None of them seemed to be moving too quickly.  It’s Sunday, I thought.  It’s Sunday and a good day to not be in a hurry. I wasn’t even sure it would ever make sense to me to get out of bed. The low-hanging clouds that had devoured the mountains seemed to be consuming a few miles of landscape every fifteen minutes or so.  Closer…  Closer… Small snowflakes started to blow by the window.

tn_IMG_0151Then I started to wonder about those cars, about those mountains.  Every time my eyes were able to lock on a passing vehicle I would imagine what the person inside looked like and decide where I thought they were going.  That blue van is taking a family to church.  The girl inside that white Corolla is disappointed that she had to wake up and venture outside to get to the opening shift at her server job.  That red car is heading right in the eye of the storm.  A skier.

All this from my Heavenly Bed on the Starwood Preferred Guest Floor in the Westin Hotel – Westminster.  Here’s me, small, insignificant and not adding or taking away anything from the world this morning, save a few lazy electrochemical signals rolling through my cerebral cortex.  There is everyone else, no different, moving within a world unique to them beneath an encroaching sky that doesn’t much care what they’re up to because it can’t tell them apart anyway.  More cars, more people. The clouds are even closer now and the wind is picking up.  I can see flags being whipped in conflicting directions.

For just under an hour I never so much as moved a muscle.

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