Rushing home under a darkening sky

Crossing over
London, ON
February 2020
This photo originally shared on Instagram

At the end of an intense day of writing that reminds me why I Iove writing for a living, the 15-minute walk back to the car is a perfect opportunity to decompress.

I can feel the cold air settling into my lungs as I walk along the icy sidewalk. As I cross over this rusting old bridge that's scheduled to be replaced, I stop and look around because it suddenly occurs to me that I've been crossing this structure for years, but I've never taken the time to really look at it.

I decide I don't do this enough. We move from here to there, yet can't be bothered to remember what it looks like along the way. We're so focused on the destination that we fail to appreciate the things we encounter in between here and there.

Which means we're missing so much of the story of us. Perhaps too much.

So as I line up a simple geometric composition, traffic picks up and I end up rather unexpectedly capturing a speeding car in the frame, its owner headed, I guess, home. Just like me.

Whoever it is, I hope they're also taking the time to soak in the journey. I hope they're enjoying being in the middle - of work and home, of two banks on a river, of day and night, of whatever - as much as I am.

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