I am perched upon a wall, this low brick wall of the college of my youth and i am watching passersby.  A woman, a mother, perhaps, not a student, stops to take pictures  of a cherry tree in bloom.  Not unusual except that it is night.  It is night.  I watch her in fascination, entertained, as she, a tourist, moves around the small tree, capturing this angle, then that.

For a moment it’s all I need, this wall, this woman, this tree, her focus, the rest of us forgotten in her task.  I have all I need, this wall, this perch, to be audience to her passion, a false connection, a bit of her joy that I can steal and make my own.

Author’s note:  Pingback to fourwindowspress added March 24, 2012 because Sonja’s Night Blossoms reminded me of this moment again.  Thank you to Thomas Davis and the amazingly talented family over there.