I was flabbergast. My head shot to my right; the guy next to me was on his phone and didn't appear to have noticed. The drivers in the traffic lanes across from me looked zoned-out and bored. Had I really been the only one to see this gorgeous creature dart across traffic in the middle of the city, racing from one green oasis to the next?
I'm taking this morning's fox as a stroke of luck, a good omen, a sign of magical moments to come.
North Carolina was certainly full of them last weekend: a terrific folk art show with my mom, a new painting to call my own, a day spent shopping with the whole crew for my cousin's prom dress. There's nothing quite like 12 hours of family shopping time to test everyone's goodwill toward one another. But wouldn't you know it, we were laughing all the way through.
So DC, then, which is feeling rather un-magical this week... We halfheartedly bid on another house yesterday. We only liked it, didn't love it, and I think more than anything else I wanted to stir the karmic pot a bit, throw something into the universe and see what I got back. Our lowball offer reflected our low level of excitement, and we didn't get it. Which is fine and all... I just needed to do something. I suck at waiting. Our location of choice has such a deficit of listings right now you could throw tomatoes on the real estate map without the splatter hitting something for sale. T's studying for another certification exam. I'm realizing the Oscars got away from me a little bit this year, and playing in the kitchen instead of going to the movies. I'm okay with that. But all of this, really, just feels like me biding time. Which again, I don't do well. Quietly waiting for change to happen upon me makes me nervous; I'd rather have a hand in creating it. I want to be like that fox, hurdling myself across danger, racing into unknown territory, launching new chapters with force of will alone. I also wouldn't mind having super-cute ears.
Mrs. Fox: "You know, you really are fantastic.
Mr. Fox: "I try."