Each Thursday, join me for my once a week practice, Through the Glass Backwards. The title of this series came from my former commute into work, when I took the light rail downtown. Even though I tend to get motion sick easily, I usually ended up facing backwards, watching as the city slipped by. Now that I work from home, 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, but not necessarily from the light rail window.
The afternoon had cooled a bit and we were sitting on a bench, side by side, people watching. Socks and shoes were removed around the fountain. We watched people come and go, as our feet stayed in our shoes, not wanting to deal with wet socks. Even though journals were pulled out, it was more fun to watch the musical chair game of people around the fountain, as the spouting water grew larger and then shrank back to smaller geysers.
As we were sitting there, a young couple sat near to us, taking off sandals and boat shoes made of dark leather. As they scooted around to place tired feet in what I assume was cool water, the young man popped open his black umbrella. The spouts were in the middle of growing higher and spraying droplets of water even to us, a few feet away from the fountain itself.
A gentle nudge of “Wake up!,” to see the gentleness and sweetness of this world, all in a little fountain plaza in the nation’s capital. With all of the ugliness that’s been going on, around the country, in politics, in this place on the map, this was a simple pause.