I'm cruising home, along the interstate. We're all moving along at a pretty speedy clip. So I don't have time to deal with what's happening. There's a huge, enormous, beyond words large flock of birds flying over the freeway. It stretches from one edge of my windshield to the other, and goes on for the two or so minutes they're in sight before I drive under them. I want to stop the car, get out and just ogle it. It is beautiful. I don't know what kind of birds they are, they're smaller than, say ducks. But they're beautiful.
The next night, they're there again. And the next. At some point, I stopped noticing them.
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Now you know why I sometimes laugh for no apparent reason. Updated whenever the mood strikes me.
What the heck?
While this used to be a sort of random collection of thoughts, it evolved into an experiment: can I tell a story that people are interested in? Is it pure conceit to think of myself as a writer? So, there's a thread of entries under the label of "Pretty", which is the working title for my, ahem, book. Of all things. Anyway, you can see the posts organized into chronological order here:
Pretty Chronology
About Me
Neighbors on the Interweb
Content is Copyright 2001-2006, Eric Eslinger. All Rights Reserved.
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