Remnants

I used to love hitting the Roman streets in the early morning hours. Soundtrack in my ears, running or walking by the shopkeepers sweeping their sidewalks, cleaning up the cigarette butts and trash left from the prior night’s activity and partying…

I had my Portland version of that experience this morning. A Monday morning spin through the park after one of the first truly warm spring Sundays yielded a plethora of remnants from Sunday's festivities. Stacks of beer cans and bottles at every trash station lay in wait for a lucky can collector. Overflowing trash cans signified heavy use. It was like: wow, life happened here yesterday. Lots of it.

I certainly enjoy being part of the life, part of the activity. But there's something about solitarily witnessing the remnants in the quiet aftermath that I enjoy even more...