Between earth and sky
At 6:20 a.m., the moon is a bright silver dish suspended between earth and sky. I contemplate fumbling for the camera but the thought of having to struggle to open the windows to get a clear shot is less than appealing; in the end, the urge to keep dozing wins.
Through the thin mist of the morning, father and son are walking to school, hand in hand, singing a Japanese song out of tune with one another. Having seen "School of Rock" the night before — a light-hearted entertaining movie with social sensitivities (if rock's your thing) — I hum a vague tune in time to my footsteps. Squirrel cleans its tail. Squirrels chase around the trees and dig for hidden treasures. Mont-Royal has begun to don its autumn coat. It will be a lovely day.
Dunstan had asked, in context of the entry two days ago:
Steph, how much of your life do you let just happen?
You always seem to be peering around the corners of conversations, the meanings of people's comments, the way films present themselves, the things books fail to address, always looking to take them to bits.
Doesn't it exhaust you?
The true answer is, if your existence has never been challenged for being who you are, perhaps you never need to think. It doesn't take much to notice when you're being treated differently because of something about you that you were born with — your gender, your skin colour, your race, and even your age, relative to others around you. Then you begin to wonder why the world is the way it is.
Posted by sniffles at October 10, 2003 11:00 PM