Thursday, August 4, 2011

Tropismes

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First you see the puppy. Floppy, fluffy: young. You follow the leash up to see a young girl holding it. She sees you. She is grinning from ear to ear, bursting with: happiness, pride, incredulity. Beyond her you see a mother, a sibling, perhaps a father in the background. The are all buoyant. The mother catches your eye, looks down at the puppy, laughs a bit. You realize they are walking their new puppy for the first time. And for a brief moment you have been included in their joy.

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The sky is usually heavy, low, close. It can be a comfort, like a blanket drawn up to keep out the world. It keeps things contained. And yet every once in a while there is a morning that dawns with expansiveness. The sky has elevated itself, soaring overhead. Perhaps it is as simple as a blue sky with distinct clouds to add contrast to the dome overhead -- altocumulus and cirrus instead of stratocumulus. Perhaps that is all the Western Sky has over its Eastern counterpart: high clouds.

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