Moment of magic

“The moments of magic are just too short. They’re over before they begin.” Blue Rodeo

It’s a beautiful Saturday in the semi suburbs. I like to call where I live the semi suburbs because we are just inside the critical boundary in Atlanta called the Perimeter. If you’re outside, you are a goober hick who thinks a hot time is going to the Wal Mart on Saturday, eating a slice of pizza and buying the latest Dane Cook movie to watch in full screen mode. If you’re inside the perimeter, you go out to watch cutting-edge cultural entertainment. Sometimes there is a clown involved. Us ITPers like to drink beers with hard to pronounce names like “Samuel Adams” and “Stella Artois”. We like the latter because it sounds more like a sexual scenario than a generic Belgian beer.

I went for a run. I’m a little compulsive about my exercise. When I do the elliptical I very much pay attention to my calories burned, even though each machine can vary so much that it’s a futile exercise. Literally. I do want to know how far I’ve traveled. I ran a course that I assumed was around three miles, then I got into my car to ensure that I went as far as I thought I did. I did.

I don’t always warm up properly, because warming up can feel like a wasted effort. I’m generally a warm person. I walked a bit today before my run. As I turned the corner from my street to the next, I saw a lot of pink flowers on the right side of the road. I didn’t know what they were. They continued to the next mail box. I still didn’t see the source of the flowers. Finally I turned to my left and there it was. A giant tree with pink flowers, shedding so much that it fell like snow. It was beautiful.

Then I thought about what a pain it would be to clean. Like I said, the moment was short.