Still life

I’ve decided that my favorite time of day in my new town is the early morning hours on a Saturday or Sunday. This past weekend, although still March, brought warm temperatures and daylight savings time. Early Saturday I headed out early and found the stillness and quiet downtown was so calming, it made me pause on the street to merely look around and enjoy the moment. Similarly, on Sunday morning I headed out early to grab coffee and bagels for my guests and as I rounded the corner at the town square, I was hit with the same feeling. It was slightly overcast, but a warm breeze moved through the air. And even though I couldn’t see a soul anywhere, there were signs that people had been around. Remnants of the previous evening revelries were strewn about and yet, the town never looked more beautiful or peaceful. I just wanted to stand there and keep everything as it is. If I had been in a movie, I would have stood there, while time-lapsed photography moved people, cars, and dogs around me at a fast pace while life went on. But in that moment, it was just me, standing there.

The morning reminded me of an Edward Hopper painting, which fittingly, is called "Sunday Morning." The whole downtown square is brick and rather old; quaint shops line the streets, along with little cafes, and can get very busy, especially when the weather gets warmer. And yet, in that moment, the street looked like this:

There have only been a few times in my life where I have been able to step back and truly observe the moment I’m currently living – to be an outsider looking in at my life. Even if Hopper’s paintings are considered lonely at times, I didn’t feel alone or lonely. Standing in the empty marketplace, remembering other marketplaces I have stood in while in various parts of the world, I just felt like I was at home. And home is a place where one belongs.