Baby Steps

Almost nothing of note happened over the week, a lot of inventorying. But there was one moment, small and short.

I met a friend at the gymnasium at nine pm yesterday. It was open gym basketball, and we were the only two there. It has been warm the past few days, in the low- to mid-forties, and last night I wore only a t-shirt over long underwear. The base settles down on nightshift, most people asleep or at the bars. It's quiet. There was no wind and a thin scrim of mist settled across the sea ice. All I could hear were my footsteps on gravel, and all I could see was the iridescent glare of a low night sun on the sunk mist, and that subtle setting stuck with me the rest of the night and through most of today.

It was like being in a cavern underground and sitting down in silence with the headlamp switched off, time effaced, thoughts rising and you forced to the realization that you're a small, fragile, living thing, and that's it. The sun was too bright, and pictures, unfortunately, wouldn't have turned out.