moving and not

a day like any other day. until I throw a stolen glance out of a shared work window while stretching my arms and back till they hurt, and find a hummingbird. flying still. 3 floors high above the ground. 30 + feet away from me. moving and not, at the same time. watching me. arms outstretched.. moving and not, at the same time.
and it zippered away like a figment of my imagination. even now I wonder if it was really there. or did I hallucinate in order to make the dull day more livable. I wonder how his day is going. if every day is as exciting or as methodical as the one before. if every moment that passes is an ecstatic heart beat, a celebratory journey to the nectar, or a constant repetitive strife for life.
hum.


my mouth tastes of coffee. I would prefer flower juice.


I have planned an escape. an overnight trip to Monterey next weekend to clear cobwebs, view unfamiliar landscapes, smell new air, and enjoy. just, enjoy. we plan on visiting some wineries, snapping some photos, eating some fresh seafood, and meander. I miss meandering. the art of walking without purpose, but not loitering. traveling with curiosity and an open mind. finding purpose in unexpected ventures. finding the nectar.
I cannot wait.


in other news...
...when an old man 'introduces' himself to you by simply asking "how old are you?", it is best to just walk away.
...the 'fitness zone' at the Campbell Community Center is a freakish area at night, resembling the Beetlejuice motel model scene.
...sadness evolves.