My Dad’s room is in one of the large newly designed rooms at our local hospital. Our window faces north toward the city. I’m sitting on the window seat couch that makes into a bed enjoying the vista of the lights of the southern part of Dallas with the outline of downtown on the horizon. For the moment, I’m imagining I’m writing in a small writer’s loft in a big city.
At home, the only lights shining on my forest views are during the seasons of the full moon and lightning bugs. It is peaceful there. For the moment, this city vista is intriguing. I love flying at night. I love to see the patterns of community life, to follow the straight lines of our destinies etched in the landscape.
It makes me wonder, what are the stories are unfolding before my eyes.
I have a design in mind for a needlework piece on black fabric with millions of french knots dotting the sky.
There is a 24 hour Walmart across the street. There are just about the same number of cars in the parking lot no matter what the time of day. It seems odd to me.
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