Blinded

This is one of those mornings where you can be damn near blinded by the sunlight. There is something rather cruel about the sheer brilliance of this particular morning. See, yesterday was very drab and wet. And it was supposed to be the beginning of our local amateur soccer season. We were rained out.

My fingers are crossed for next week.

On Jasper Avenue today, I observed a bus driver bearing down on a cyclist like a trawler after a dolphin. Sad. The driver honked his horn several times. Then, at the intersection, where both had to stop and wait, the driver proceeded to glare at the cyclist. He shook his head several times. Because I found the driver's attitude abhorrent, I in turn glared at him.

Unfortunately, I don't think the driver saw my glare.

How full of anger our city is! It has become almost tangible.

And why is there still garbage blowing around everywhere? The excuse that the snow just melted will not cut it! Last week, I saw that a flowerpot had fallen from an apartment balcony, shattering on the pavement, spreading shards and dirt everywhere. The next day, it was still there. And the next.

There are newspapers with the same day's date on them, blowing around, presumably within hours of being discarded by the reader.

Plastic bags are ensnared in trees.

Shoes show up on telegraph wires.

There are smashed beer bottles in the street.

It has almost been elevated to the level of poetry, the diligent desecration of our home.