Not alone

I had one of those moments today in which I remembered that I am not alone. In all of life's awkwardness and idiosyncracy, I am not an island of clumsy accidents. For this reminder, I would like to thank the stranger on her bicycle at the stoplight in the rain today.

Let me explain: Often in Germany, bikers ride up to stoplights slowly and grab onto the pole in order to stay upright on their bikes. As this woman approached the stoplight, she leaned .... annnd.... fell off her bike. Basically in slow motion. In the rain. She did not hurt herself (it was very very slow) but did not exactly pull off what you would call a graceful save. With flailing arms, she stuck the landing with the front tire facing the wrong way and a sheepish grin on her face. I grinned conspiratorily at her as we crossed the street going opposite directions. I have done this. We are not alone. ~love~

The corner table

I have a spot. A routine. Usually, I like to mix things up a bit to keep the creative juices flowing. Change libraries, coffee shops, times, music. But I have this place I keep going back to. A long table in the corner of the first floor of a library. Next to floor to ceiling windows. Under a very large lamp.

Here is the thing. I think I am allergic to the library in the old city. Like, cool - our library is one of the oldest in Germany and a tourist attraction, but - maybe its not so healthy to breathe the same dust as Mark Twain, Helmut Kohl, Philipp Melanchthon, Robert Wilhelm Bunsen, etc for long periods of time. Just a thought.

So here I am. In another library. In the corner, under the lamp, where I can almost feel the spring breeze passing me by as I write. and write. and write. ~love~