Sometimes I’m happy I live in Houston.
On an excursion today, I found myself stopped in traffic on Alabama, my shortcut to the freeway, with the Galleria on either side, the beautiful Philip Johnson designed Williams Tower slightly to the right, big fat Gulf Coast clouds floating northward behind it, and Steve Reich’s Sextet: Six Marimbas playing on the car stereo.
Then, on the way home, I’m behind a white van which has, “Run! Zombies!” traced onto its smudged back end. I took a picture with my phone, but I’m not sure if you can see the words.
After that, still listening to Six Marimbas, I cruise down Tanglewood Drive where spring is bursting out all over, and azaleas and bougainvillea are beginning to bloom.
On the way up the little path to my door, I see a cardinal, young squirrels frolicking through oak and ligustrum trees (but hiding on the other side when I stop to take a picture), and I can hear mourning doves cooing.
(Pardon the red flags–compliments of Comcast.)
I wake up to the sound of doves cooing, even though I live in the city.