Up And At 'Em

If the unrelated thoughts that ran through my mind as I wondered at the bright sunlight at 0635 this morning were translated into my word processor I would have fodder for at least ten articles – or introductory lines for as many memoirs.
But I do not. Neurons are active in my brain, and yours, too. Everyone's. How impossible our technology is to meet that challenge – instant hard copy recording fleeting synapses. I notice which cars in the neighborhood are missing, the owners off on their Monday routines. At first glance I saw what was there. What a contrast the singular plants in my yard are to the lush green manicured lawns across the street.
And then I noticed what was not. No cats. No paperboy. No biker pumping peddles in his reclined position on his three-wheeler. Too late that's why. Each thought brings a logical reason for the picture. Is that a dilemma or the average situation for the human animal? Focusing is difficult. And I am not very good at it.
Nevertheless I pour some milk, nuke my oatmeal and move ahead.
Naomi Sherer