Day by day the rut can get deeper. Then those little things happen that make you so damn happy you feel like you’re going to burst.
My morning commute is long and most of the year, dark. I listen to a lot of music to pass the time and to wake up doing 60 on the highway. Along most of my commute the Denver light-rail runs alongside the highway. Zipping other commuters to start their day. Every day I think of those trains. How they’ve been a recent addition to Denver, yet seem completely permanent.
At a certain point the entire system, the highway and the rail line curves. In these early mornings when it’s just me and my satellite radio, if I time it just right, I can curve around the bend neck and neck with a rushing train. On these morning trains there’s a link where the train’s tail reaches up and touches the overhead electric line, reaching up to get their power. On random mornings and on certain times the train’s link hits the power line on this curve and lets out an eruption of sparks.
This to me is amazing and awe inspiring. The flash, the shower of sparks then gone.
What seems to be an eternity ago, I was in San Francisco. I went with my boyfriend at the time. On that trip I found myself spending what seemed like hours standing on the corner of 18th and Castro. Standing there watching the overhead streetcar lines. Waiting for a car to come along and flash a shower of sparks. When one would finally erupt I would gaze upon it like seeing the moon for the first time. One of life’s amazing moments.
That trip was a turning point in my life, the last trip before my boyfriend died and last time we spent quality time not worrying about the virus that was ripping his body apart.
When I see the flash of spark like lightning next to my car on my mundane commute I see a perfect moment in the Castro on a cool evening with someone I’ll never get to see again.