In the sudden flush of wintry weather, one can sense warmth pulsating from a mile away, a lighthouse beacon.
On a whim, taking a different route across town, distortions in the air over a metal trash can promise heat, or at least something interesting. It’s noon, and when the sun stands still, so do I.
The park was empty. He saw me and sauntered over. “Hey, I like your boots!”
“Oh look, did somebody put more wood on there? I put some on this morning.”
In Redmond Plaza today there are warm hands, a feeling of gratitude for those who keep things illuminated in the city, and, as always, a large concrete seal.