Perambulations

I took a break from my office and went for a walk around lunchtime. I'm very glad that on the other side of my building is a quiet, residential street with lots of flowers and trees. Strange that just one block up is all the rush and bustle of an incredibly busy Los Angeles thoroughfare.

I strolled slowly along the back street, because I wasn't really interested in exercise so much as just breathing and looking at things. And thinking, of course.

What did I think about? Well, lots of things. I was mostly trying to think of different things that I like about God, but I kept getting distracted by how pretty yellow daisies looked in someone's garden, for instance. Or someone else had planted rosebushes; I am looking forward to when they start to grow. In another yard, I saw a lemon tree. I thought about how I like the color yellow, against a particular kind of green. And I looked at the freshly mowed grass and thought about how I like the color green.

I saw how the sidewalk rose in some areas into a sort of point, shoved up by tree roots or earthquakes, I don't know which. The cement of the walk is pocked with little holes; some of the holes were filled with water, probably from someone's hose or sprinklers.

One house along the street has a wide variety of birdhouses, and also large spheres with Christmas lights on them, hanging in the tree in the front yard. One of the birdhouses is shaped like a cowboy boot. Another one says, "Welcome" over the little bird-door, which is always open. The Christmas lights were on, in the daytime.

The sky was perfectly blue today.