Underneath It All

This tree is across from the bus stop that takes me to the metro station. In context, it's surrounded by other trees, traffic, an ugly shopping center, and ugly pedestrians. I sat on the concrete ledge provided by Earl Scheib Body and Paint, waiting for the right moment to capture it. It is unlike the other trees. This tree is full and robust, as if it were new to the median and had not yet inhaled the fumes of trucks, buses, and cars. We've passed this tree hundreds of times. In a car.

I took the pic with simple effect and e-mailed it to D. "Pretty, where is it?" was her reply. "In front of Target" was my reply.

This tree is beautiful. Unique. Special. In the middle of a crowd trying so damn hard to get somehere faster today than yesterday.

Friday night/Saturday morning I left just a little earlier for my other job, a nice short gig that makes the rent. It was a different sample in contrast with the last train home crowd. Lots of tipsy people, but mostly couples while the last train home crowd are usually the three and outers.

Just an half hour earlier and the atmosphere is so much louder, as if they brought the bars and clubs with them. I got off at Gallery Place/Chinatown to catch a red line. That's where the crowd really gathers.



I went to the far end of the stop to get on at the front of a train (the first and last cars are usually the least crowded). No big hurry as the next sub to my destination wasn't due for 16 minutes. It was 3am by this point. I sat on a bench and studied the neon artwork that I've seen so many times now. It seems to say many lines go through this tunnel.



While waiting, a young couple, apparently early on in the dating process sits down next to me. I can smell the dark liquor. Easy to do when you woke up fairly recently and are more in mind for a cup of coffee than a relaxer of inhibitions.

So I ignore them and listen to my mp3 player, until a petite raven haired woman slumps down between us. She can barely stay awake. From her dress, I'm guessing that she was not out partying. More like late office work, or completing an unpleasant errand associated with that time of night.

Our train comes and we all get up, except her. We all start to walk to the doors, except her.

She's asleep. Asleep in her red leather coat, sensible shoes, jeans, and hoopy earrings.

I know this is the last train and obviously one she needs to be on. So I go back and touch her lightly on the shoulder, "miss, is this your train?" Foggily, she says yes and gets on.

She sat across from me, continuing to battle sleep. She started to get off at the wrong stop in her dawn patrol haze.

My stop came, and I went.



I hope she found her way.