Lost in my thoughts of clouds and my cloud of thoughts, I wonder what Joni Mitchell, who saw both sides, would say right now. I feel like Alice, on the wrong side of the looking glass. Each square offers a glimpse I can see, but not experience. Still I’m here, aren’t I?
I put my lunch in the bin and move to place on small patch of city grass under a small city tree. People walk between my glorious view and me. I don’t really mind. The movie has become a stage play, and they’re characters meant to add context and color. My, how they do.
They don’t notice me, noticing them. Except for one.
A man with shining eyes and dark hair sits in the grass a few feet from me. He readies his camera. His mind is working, seeing, playing with ideas.
I ask, “Do you think we’re more like the reflection or more like the clouds?”
He smiles and says, “We get to pick − one, none, either, both, or another − don’t we?”
I knew that he and I would be friends for life.
I picked every answer. So did he.
−me strauss Letting me be