As the headlights swerve toward you, don’t panic

It wasn’t until long after the car had passed, and I had escaped unscathed, that I realized I hadn’t panicked.  I remember hearing once that traffic incidents often happen near home, probably because we let our guards down.

Maybe that was in the back of my mind as I rode my scooter, on my street, three houses from my home, and I saw the headlights veering toward me.  Cars park along one side of my street, so it’s not unusual for a car to drift farther than necessary.  I watched closely though, shifting closer to the sidewalk on my side of the street.  The headlights kept coming. The speed was noticeable.  I moved even farther to the sidewalk.  Then the headlights swerved quickly toward me, then away, and the car passed.

I stopped, letting my scooter lean beneath me toward the sidewalk as I looked at the car, waiting for some sign that the driver was aware.  It appeared to run a stop sign and hurry away.  After continuing home, and taking stock of what had happened, I realized: I didn’t panic.

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Musical Introspection

Urban beauty

Editor’s note: This is a post about  projecting our own experiences, troubles, and musings on prose of all kinds, and how it relates to my times of spiritual renaissance.

With each breath the wheat stalks seemed to blur into golden oceans begging for navigation.  Though I have sailed true blue water, these golden waves of grain could not be traversed by wind, but by will.  My breathing and straining formed the cadence.  My mind drifted in and out of the large and small problems of me.

The Chipman Trail connects Moscow, Idaho with Pullman, Washington—two university towns in the agriculture-rich Palouse region.  Chipman is a smoothly paved pathway for bicycles and runners traveling between the towns, running parallel to the highway.  Despite traffic nearby, the grain, barns, bridges, and animals give a uniquely American impression: that space is wide-open, and nature can still seem unlimited.

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Munich in Spring

Schloss Nymphenburg
Transition often brings reflection.  In relationships, career, life in general, change always brings an unsure, but steady, tone to our worlds–to the personal universes we live in.  The seasons are a perfect representation of a world in flux, and for me always bring yet another hushed moment to ruminate and muse.

With this Spring I will have experienced all 4 seasons in Europe.  That seen only on a calendar means little…but in reality, I consider it a feat worth noting.

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