We took my Mom and Step Dad to the Ballard Locks yesterday. It's one of my favorite places in the whole world. I had a hard time explaining why- but they got it after a while.
It's like driving through a small town at night. You look into the windows of the houses and see the lives being lived- unconscious of you in the dark. Self-sufficient. Are they happy? What do they do? Is their house nice inside?
It's kinda like that at the Locks. For a few minutes, you see the boats, you watch the people on the boats living their lives. You share their conversations with people on other boats. You read the names of their boats and draw conclusions about their lives- what they do, where they live. It's wonderful.
I display endless curiosity about all of this. I love watching lives unfold around me. I don't want to interact, necessarily- just watch. Not for long- just long enough to get a taste. Then I'll move on. Nothing to see here, folks.
"The caretakers of the various cemeteries involved report that no ghosts walk."
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3 comments:
I totally understand. When I was little, my family used to go for walks at night in the summer. It was wonderful to see all the houses lit up. Comforting, somehow, to see all that private humanity going on around you.
Nosy Slyboots. I'm the opposite. If I can live my life without running into people and their banal lives, I'd be a happy man. None of their lives interest me. They're all the same.
Nosy me. Just have to have a fix on what's going on with others. But not an indepth experience. Just a taste. An apertif, if you will. Then I'm happy to retreat into the batcave with the cats and the lovely Bot of my heart.
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