Thursday, March 29, 2012


I need to see something grow.  Something green and honest and healthy.  Something unique and precious.

On my way to work I drive past a business park.  With the leaves all gone and roads stained with salt, what a sore it is on the landscape.  A festering infection of commerce and materialism.  Big box stores, chain restaurants, traffic lights: a scourge that feeds on need and greed.  And the cars go. Stop. Go.

There on the crest of the hill, a little brick office building has been minding its own business for twenty years.  Suddenly, a monstrosity of sheet metal and plexi-glass has sprung up right next to it, close enough to touch.  Close enough to block out the light.  It's square and ugly in a What The Hell Is That kind of way.  It's a pustule on the bony shoulder of the city.  It even has the audacity to be orange. The sign says Metro Self Storage.

I wouldn't store my Self there. 

I'd prefer an Adirondack chair in my back yard. Or, better yet, on the shore.  As long as my kids can play nearby, and I can listen to their voices, close my eyes in the sunshine and just be grateful for a little while.

1 comment:

Danica-Dragonfly said...

Oh Sweety ... you are so melancholy.

I sincerely hope things have turned for you by now.

I do know what you mean about the industrialized state of our little world. Even out here in boonie-ville, it looks somewhat the same - impersonal, huge stores and giant sized boxes in which to store all the cheap crap we buy and then have no room to keep by us. SOOOO many things wrong with our world.

But it is what it is and we need to make some kind of peace with it - or we'll go mad.

Unless, of course you are up for making a change ... but that seems more monumental than stacking every big box store on top of each other. GAH!