Shouldn't…but Do

On walkabout.  50 F.,  snowpack diminishing by the minute.

Trash day.  Four houses down, Santa is in the can.  A blow-up lawn decoration, once cheery, illuminated, now ignominiously kicked to the curb.  Only place to go when you are inflated, is down.

The sky is big, the birds are loud.  Good ice day.  The best ice is a tease.  Beautiful, solid, but cracks under pressure.  Not a bad thing. Elemental vulnerability.

Rounding the corner, an endless ribbon of dry street.  How did I get to this?

Head down, something glittering catches my eye.  Newly liberated water rushes streetside toward the storm drain.  Cloud cover strays, a reflected, iridescent sun travels the gutter beside me, keeping step in its watery, changing world. Sun shining below my feet. Involution. For precious few moments, my world rights.

The clouds recover. The gutter ends.

Dry pavement, dirty snow, everything melts.