The tips of my fingers were numb as I yanked my lunch bag out of my backpack. Walking to the break room, my mind drifted towards the day's list of to-dos. By the time I reached the refrigerator the work day's anxiety was in full flux. I closed the fridge door and turned to fill my jug. I didn't get far. The view from the 32nd floor stopped me in my tracks.
What magnificence. Any impending stress dropped away. I can't say I remember how long I stood there staring down at the Willamette river, its banks lined with bare trees, fallen leaves swept away in its current. When I returned to my desk it was with the same profound fluid grace.
slow in the icy air