Watching

I've been in a bit of a mood lately. Money's been tight, and with that the eternal existential questions... am I doing something that makes me happy? What makes me happy anyway? And Kay handles these sorts of things differently than I do, and so we had a bit of a tiff, so last night I just decided to hop on the Raleigh and see what happened. I wandered around Brooklyn for the greater part of four hours, discovering my favorite part of all cities: the background. I wandered up and down the waterline, watched the tugs move barges by night off of Red Hook; found where the Chinatown buses sleep; found old sailor bars and new construction. I watched cop cars race down the FDR from a vantage point on the promenade, and the cars looked like rubies around the neck of Manhattan. The Raleigh struggled over the cobblestones of Dumbo and I listened to the power plant crackle on a silent street. I climbed into vinegar hill and found myself looking at the stark Commandant's house of the Navy Yard. Worked my way around the yard and up Kent into Williamsburg, trading bridge for bridge.
I don't simply watch, anymore.
When I had the money and reason to take the Volvo southward on a regular basis, to North Carolina or Louisiana, or up to Connecticut, that was time when there was nothing to do but watch. Watch the scenery, watch the tach, watch the gas gauge, pull over to rest the eyes.
Its true that the subways are where I get the best writing and reading done. But there's nothing to watch. I think my brain has been too concerned with problems and solutions, lately, ignoring the world in which those both exist and the adventures it can inspire.
I think its time to undo some of that.