I woke up this morning with a sadness in my stomach, it ached like the anxiety of realizing some thing cannot be fixed; this is not an unusual occurrence for me as of late. I usually feel like fire- so unarguably alive, but I don’t feel like myself lately at all, more like a flame that keeps wanting to go out, but it won’t, its steadfast in it’s touch and go state.

For weeks I have resisted sad songs, all of my studies in psychology have warned against submersing yourself in your own sadness; and yet, before the work I was dreading, this morning I woke up and with my cup of coffee I consumed Okkervil River songs and Charles Bukowski poems in lieu of food. I was convinced the second I woke up that January 10th of 2012 was going to be miserable and I was making myself feel miserable to reflect the day to come.

On my way to the bus stop I took a shorter route that’s usually inaccesible due to a locked gate. I hadn’t been this way in a long time, not since the Solstice. I walked through the gates and because I had to catch the 2:45 Bus the Sun was slightly to the right of me. Blocking the Sun to give themselves time to introduce us was an overarching set of Maple Trees. The Sun, my god, it had lit them ablaze. The leaves of these Trees with the Sun happily shining rays through their branches, they were the truest red I have ever seen in my life. If only I were a visual artist, maybe I could mix just the right acrylics, just the right reds with touches of yellow and black perhaps, maybe then you could have seen how dripping with color these trees were, but I doubt it. I heard myself gasp through my headphones. I wanted to stay with them and chat for a bit so very much. In those few seconds of introducing me to the Sun, the Trees introduced me to the day and it took me aback. Suddenly somehow I wasn’t so sad.

And as I walked up to the Bus stop, the Bus pulled up to me and I walked straight in, not a single second was wasted. I watched the Sky and it was so playful today. Surrounded by the clunky metal of Jacksonville Transit Authority, the dreary ads and the slightly annoyed driver, the half working class or students, half questionable people, it’s easy to hate letting this Steel Beast swallow you up and spit you out later. And yet, most things aren’t that ugly if you know where to look. Through the dingy window of the Bus the Sky was the kind of blue that makes you turn away after looking for too long and the Clouds were billowy, elongated, they were excited for some reason. And I thought of the beautiful Trees the whole ride.

As I exited the Beast I looked at the time and I was going to clock in exactly as my shift started even though I should have been late. It was a slow day, I worked and kept to myself, I was polite to the customers, but I always am. My shift ended, I entered the Steel Beast and came home to my earthy apartment.

And the day wasn’t that bad.

But if not for the beautiful fucking Trees… I would have been crying half way through my shift.