Offense: You can take it, or you can play it.
The apartment building I live in is brand new. A shining beacon of glass and privilege in a transitioning neighborhood.
The sidewalk in front of the door has been tagged by a stencil proclaiming hate of techies.
Between the stencil and the door, a watermelon has been disassembled, creating a slippery red moat, vaguely reminiscent of blood, that must be crossed to exit.
In the middle of the bike lane, heavily traveled in the mornings, a bottle has been shattered and scattered across the green path, jagged edges turned up to catch every tire that comes along.
Small acts of sabotage born of frustration, anger, jealousy, and desire, spark my compassion as I sweep the glass off the bike path to the curb and cross the street.
The flower market is alive with color and fragrance this morning. Growers trucks unload exotic blooms, bushy greens, and mosses. Even succulents and cactus, with their wicked spines have a place here.
The air is fresh and filled with uplifting perfumes.
Around the corner, the compost pile temporarily overwhelms. Delightful fragrances transformed through the natural progression of the lives of the flowers and plants. Everything ends up in a similar state eventually.
What did you see?
#mymorningwalk