I found myself smelling the stinging-dull air of a fresh, ancient country. Dew on the green grass and coolness upon the grey stone. City streets busy with the comings and goings of many. A distant signal. A nearby hurry. The every-day. Old homes, hundreds of years old, winding the lines of the town. I know that house, there. The drafty windows and narrow stairwells are quite familiar, even though I have never seen them before. The walls are decorated with cherished photographs, though the names of the people pictured in them have long since been forgotten.
I sat up to readjust my headphones. The light of the laptop was glowing on the ham shack, lighting the dresser, and the newly cleaned floor. The air conditioner churned out its breeze and the alarm clock reminded me of my impending call. Yes, this is my own little place, for now. It lacks the charm of Hutchison House, the comfort of Japanese tatami and futons, and the sweetness of home, but it's my base of operations at the moment.
This morning dawned silver, a brightly overcast sky that whispered of rain. On the metro, I continued reading where I left off the other day in the Minor Prophets:
For all people walk each in the name of his god,
But we will walk in the name of the LORD our God
Forever and ever.
He will again have compassion on us,
And will subdue our iniquities.
You will cast all our sins
Into the depths of the sea.
Micah surprised me with its richness. I recognized many passages and had no idea that they came from this small book. Much like Bethlehem in that regard, I think (Micah 5:2). I may read through this book again tomorrow - it's only about 6 pages long.
Well, I've killed about 2 hours sitting here in front of the dimly glowing screen. I finished the laundry at 10 pm, and since then have been typing, deleting, typing, cutting, editing, and jumping around the new techno mix. Ah, unwind the tightly spun mind.