Cathartic Ink

putting my own spin on things

If We Manage to Survive This Earthquake, Will We Ever Be the Same?

Comments Off on If We Manage to Survive This Earthquake, Will We Ever Be the Same?

Today has been a day of really observing my surroundings.  I’ve been sitting in the same spot since
about 2.30 this afternoon, in my navy blue chair, in the southwest corner of my room, with the blinds up, basking in
the afternoon sun, when it was out.  And when it wasn’t I was focused on reading my book, Cradle to Cradle by
William McDonough and Michael Braungart.  Its required reading for my Environment Ethics and Sustainability Seminar,
but its so well written, and so engaging that I’ve been flying through it (I fully intend to finish it tonight).  At
any rate, as I was watching early on in the day, I noticed that as architects we tend to shelter doorways and entries
in corners, to protect them, especially from the north winds in this climate.  Well, guess what the north wind was
doing as it came to the southern corner of the western wall of the projection?  That’s right, whipping around it,
creating little vortexs of wind that ruffled the grass in violent spiraling patterns.  It was fascinating to watch, and
when it wasn’t raining I spent time trying to identify the smell in the air, and why, when it rains the air smell
reminds me of home.  At least, I was doing this until the smell of cow manure overtook the smell of clean rain (sorry,
I just don’t want to smell poo constantly).  Its weird that the air here should ever remind me of the strong, somewhat
pungent odor of the salty mud flats at home, but somedays if I close my eyes I would swear I was home on the shore.  

Just recently I’ve started hearing flocks of geese outside my window as they pass on their migration
southward, reminding me that its almost winter, and also reminding me of how much I love fall, and the smells and
sounds it brings.  And since I opened my blinds again to see the geese flying over, I decided to just kind of look.  
From my window I can see most of the western part of Fargo, and West Fargo, and all of the lights that go in hand with
that (basically a flat strip just above the horizon).  It was well past sunset, but the horizon was still stained with
the color of the setting sun, in a weird and very cool juxtaposition with the lights of the city, and the street lights
along the border of campus.  Sometimes the world, and everything in it just fascinates the hell out of me and makes me
realize why I am so thrilled to be alive every morning when I wake up…Anyway, that’s it for now…Back to my book!

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