Balance

I just finished watching a documentary about the Frenchman who hung a tight rope across the World Trade Center towers and performed for nearly an hour.  Balance is the theme of the week.  I inherited a bicycle from my good friend who just moved out and have spent the entire day today riding around, thinking about nothing but the wind in my face and the burning in my thighs.  I stopped in park near my house where I found a group of free spirits playing some live-action role-playing game.  Generally I wouldn't join in, but I had nothing else to do, and had recently adopted an even more intense 'go with the flow' attitude.  It was fun, and I met some interesting characters. 

That evening on a separate ride, I returned to the park to listen to a small Asian man play the pan flute.  He has been performing at the park every evening all week.  



Yesterday evening, I went to the park to listen to the man play his flute for the first time.  His performance had drawn me to the park from my house.  You see, he stands nearly unmoving for hours playing his flute in a steel-concrete pagoda structure which has some amazing acoustic properties.  It resonates with his flute.  The structure resembles a starfish if it could stand on its 'tippy-toes.' 

I laid in the field of grass tossing a stick for my dog while I relished the atmosphere.  The temperature was warm and muggy but pleasant, the humidity produced a diffuse glow around the street lights which were popping on one by one, the orange and pink sunset was bringing out the green in the grass, and for what seemed like hours (but what was really a few minutes of reflection), I felt like I was the man's flute and the world was my pagoda.