This morning everyone at work was talking about how they got home last night. Each person had a story. A storm came through Newcastle yesterday afternoon, prompting a change to the normal day’s routine. Streets were cut off, houses and roads were flooded and the amount of water that fell in that short space of time made us all stop and look. It was a different kind of storm for this place.
I love days like yesterday. Days when you have no choice but to change your plans, days when nature temporarily lifts the veil of the mundane. Of course this isn’t always positive. In an extreme case this could mean a tsunami, but in my case, yesterday, it just meant a longer route home, driving through a new part of town, a meal in a new restaurant, and a reminder to look around. I was grateful.
Days like yesterday remind me of working as a waitress in
at Applebee’s. It was my first
restaurant job. The day I recall is the day a storm came through Concord, North Carolina Concord and the restaurant lost power. It was
late afternoon bleeding into early evening and the lights went out. The
restaurant was full of people in various stages of dining. We had to do
what we could, under the circumstances to help them finish their meals, pay,
turn those away who came too late. It was exciting and simple. We
did what we could with what we had.
For a long time I’ve had reservations about affluence and too much choice. I hate how supermarkets make you feel so miniscule, so overwhelmed.
This morning on my walk to work I found a kittiwake chick that had fallen from its nest. In
Newcastle near the river these birds nest
underneath the and
on the sides of buildings, up high. I didn’t know what was best for this
little creature. It was alive, but most likely dying. I was
frantic; I wanted to help but didn’t think I could do much. I hoped its
mother was watching me. Tyne Bridge
I put the little one in a flower pot. A small part of me mourned. I continued on to work to hear the stories, and I wondered if kittiwakes made plans.