Monday, May 18, 2020

On the street where I get my mail, a young woman picks up leaves from the ground and puts them in a blue shopping bag. At first I think it’s some sort of clean-up effort. Then I see that she is only saving one out of every eight or nine leaves. She drops the rest back on the ground. Maybe it’s an art project. I can’t tell, from several meters away, why she chooses the ones that she does. Workers are finally digging up spots on the street where the bus stop had been. They are tearing up bricks from the pavement and holes in the road. I guess that they are a construction team rather than archaeologists. You never know, though, when people will stumble across something like a Phoenician temple around here. It’s hot again in the morning, but it doesn’t get nearly as bad as yesterday. We’re told that the temperature will rise above 100 degrees Fahrenheit for six straight days this week. It’s like I’m back living in Dallas. But at least 100 is better than 110. I work late into the evening, rewriting marketing materials with my boss. We have different writing styles, but we make it work. I groove on collaboration. And I know when to let the wookiee win. I’m surprised to see fallen grapefruit and oranges in my yard when I get home. I thought they had all come down a month ago. These last few must have needed to be more thoroughly convinced that winter is finally done.