Each Thursday, join me for my once a week practice, Through the Glass Backwards. As I commute into work, I take the light rail downtown. Even though I tend to get motion sick easily, I usually end up facing backwards, watching as the city slips by. These vignettes will be a 200 word glimpse of things I see as the world outside me lives its life, and I am fortunate enough to see.
They’ve been doing construction on one of the buildings I pass on my way in to work. One morning, as I was staring out the window and we were stopped at the light, I saw a pair of khaki work boots, walking back and forth. As I watched, a length of lumber was picked up, turned over (dust falls from the top), turned over again (dust falling like pixie help), and then moved to the other side of the work-booted feet. The same procedure occurred with a second piece of lumber. The light rail started its trek to the next stop – which was mine.
I thought about bridge building. How it’s one piece of the bridge at a time, unless you’re working with others. Even then, it’s not immediate. We pick up each piece that’s necessary, dust it off a bit, and move it to where it needs to go. That building takes strong work, including wearing reinforced shoes, in case things get dropped. That it’s sometimes slow going, but that in the end, we’re building something pretty nifty. And that patience – not one of my strong points – is required if I’m going to do it correctly.