experience.

I had a meeting yesterday at work, a Saturday meeting. While I don’t love the idea of being at work on a Saturday morning, the bike ride to my office without any rush hour traffic is almost worth it. Week after week, I bike to work, and I feel more comfortable each time, but there is a degree of anxiety that doesn’t go away. There’s the tricky spot with the construction. There's navigating the street where the bike lane ends and I have to merge into the lane. Inevitably someone honks at me or yells that I should get off the road.

On a Saturday morning, its a freaking joy ride. I can relax and enjoy feeling my own legs power a machine and I can look around and notice people and trees and houses.

I work east of the river, as they say around here, so my ride includes a bridge. I pass over a wide river, sometimes populated with ducks or rowing crews. At my back, you can see the Washington Monument and the US Capitol.

As I came over the bridge yesterday morning, in that quiet space, a huge flock of birds, gulls I think, flew over my head with a rush. I didn’t even see they were coming until they lifted over the edge of the bridge. The air was still and silent and it was starting to rain. I was caught between, in too many metaphorical ways to list. I didn’t stop, but I let myself coast and I looked up, briefly hoping that I wouldn’t get poop to the face.

I am so used to reflecting on people, the encounters that make up every day life. Those are the stories that I build myself into, and the stories I think to tell. Deep in the city, I rarely think of any other narrative. But yesterday I remembered to look everywhere, to listen to everything, to notice indiscriminately. Experience is my currency. It’s all in front of us, waiting.