5/5/10

eccentric

Today, I walked through our tiny town, with a population of 365 individuals as of this year's census-- meager, starved, even, for a greater population. But the streets are always crowded, with cars, hundreds of them-- especially now, at about six in the evening. This town, small as it might be, is filled with four or more mighty shopping complexes.

Within the suburbs of this town, though, it is unusually quiet. We are not a closely knit neighborhood, but rather know each other by glimpses of the backs of vague heads on voting day or at town hall meetings. I have lived here for nine years, almost ten, shopped in almost every store, eaten at almost every restaurant, and recognized my town not for its people, but for its size, its bustle.

Today, though, I walked through these stores, the hundreds of them, walked through the curbs, through the street that lead to the town hall. But today, I saw something entirely different-- I saw a sunset, a patch of flowers, butterflies, buds, fallen leaves. I snapped these:




And after these nine years, I have realized that my town is more than a conglomeration of shopping complexes. It is a place of beauty.

6 comments:

Erin said...

I love realizations like these.

June Calender said...

Your photographs are lovely and I've never seen one with points of light like your sunset one. Your world has opened to the important things, the things that will last when the shops close and the shoppers are back home wherever that may be.
P.s.Thanks for the note you left on my blog.

Meleonieeee - ♥ said...

Hey Julia :D
Thanks for commenting on my blog :)
I love your photos! Especially the last one with the sunset! x

Anonymous said...

Thanks for stopping by my blog and commenting. (: This was a lovely post. Don't you just love it when you realize something like that? It gives you a whole perspective on life. At least for the moment.

poet said...

I know this feeling! When I was a child, I lived in a city with lots of ugly tiled apartment buildings and lots of abandoned decaying factories. But I was able to completely ignore the ugliness when I saw a flower somewhere.

Thanks for commenting!
-poet

Cynthia said...

An eppiphany, makes life worth living because
the obvious joys are just that obvious, but
oh so enduring.

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in the wake of light, your words bring me more(please, do leave your fingerprints behind, so I may relish the image of our hands after you go.)