I was walking outside today at what normally would have been lunchtime for me, but was pre-lunchtime today since my official 25th company service anniversary luncheon was scheduled later. Puddles from the rain were still in low spots on the driveway, and it was oppressively humid and blazingly hot. Since I didn't want to get too sweaty before the hug-fest ahead, I decided to stick close to the building and keep the walk brief. Staying close to the building equals "constant peril" for pedestrians, due to the flock of Canadian geese that abundantly festoons our sidewalks with their personal gifts. Dodging the droppings requires looking quite closely at the ground as one walks. Funny what you notice while paying attention to places you don't usually look. I noticed that the post-storm, fallen leaves on the sidewalk seemed to be framed like pictures by ovals of water on the cement. It reminded me of old, framed silhouettes of Victorian ladies, and of cameo brooches. Why the antique association? I realized that all of the leaves surrounded by their hydrous frames were older, already brown or on their way to it, autumn infringing upon them, creating a sepia tone I associate with distinguished old photos. They lay smoothly
and serenely within their aquatic cameos. However, those leaves that were still green, yet just as eagerly torn from their branches by the earlier winds, were unframed. They did not draw the moisture into themselves or attract it to their orb, but adorned themselves with sunshine-sparkled jewels of rain. Unlike the others, these leaves were not serenely clinging to the pavement, but still rustling, ready to flutter into the wind should the right gust present itself.
In my reflective mood, looking backward and forward at my career, I found many parallels to life, knowledge, wisdom, and relationships with others, and what all of that means within the framework of a diverse workforce.
What do you make of these observations? I'd love to know.
Michelle Drabik (distortiongirl)