In the interest of work-life balance, no one wants to be the person who leaves the office last every night. Or arrives first every morning. Or becomes so familiar with the after-5 rhythm of the office that the timing of the lights going off and the cleaning crew arriving become an integral part of the old internal clock.
And yet (sorry, I say that often these days) there's a certain sense of peace associated with walking out onto the top deck of a deserted parking structure on a bitterly cold evening. The folks who normally fill this bustling place have all gone home for the day, and the sense of quiet on this somewhat soulless slab of snow-covered concrete is palpable.
On this evening, I allowed time to get away from me. With my headphones plugged in and the voices inside my head sending words coursing through my fingers and keyboard, I lost track of how late it was. By the time I buttoned up the document I had been working on, the friendly lady who cleans my office was at my door.
I stopped to take this picture because it seemed to be one of those moments worth remembering. I seem to have a lot of those moments in my life, but thinking back to the crisply cold snippet of time you see here, I'm somewhat pleased that I continue to listen to the voices that compel me to record the moment. Maybe there's a story there, and maybe there isn't. But we'll never know if we don't stop and give it a second thought.
Your turn: Do you stop and remember moments like this? What do your quiet moments look like?
Currently living in the sticks with a planned move to the city in my future, I am focusing more on my quiet moments here. They tend to be early in the morning, on my regular daily walk. I haven't taken a snap of it in some months, and will make it a point to do so soon. Thanks for the inspiration.
ReplyDeleteJust don't do this every night!
ReplyDeleteempty home
ReplyDeletenothing electric turned on
pets all asleep