The visions beyond the otherwise monotonous narratives comprising our daily commute is enlivened by the landscape, the tall pillars baring themselves stalwart into the sky, accented by the birds that dot their limbs. Like moments in spinning Zoetrope, the pictures that pass through the windshield are ever-changing.
In the freeze-frame of each ephemeral image that glides past our periphery, nature coalesces with the mundane and man-made. As they disappear in our rear-view mirror, we thoughtlessly leave our connection to them behind. The inherent complexities and majesty are seldom engaged during a hurried commute. Their import is unwittingly disregarded.
The trees are literally rooted to the earth yet the environment that surrounds them is in constant flux. Cycles are spinning, buds emerge from branches, and leaves disengage, drifting slowly downward. The miniature clouds of cherry blossoms make an otherwise unremarkable tree spectacular for a week. The swift black trails of a darting crow forms a ghostly web over the tree tops. Filtered sunlight on a stormy day brings new dimension to the skyline.
By the time our commute concludes and our destination has been reached, this fleeting narrative remains a blur. Yet, by recounting these conjoined moments we allow ourselves the time and space to ponder just how much we almost missed along the way.
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