I have questioned all the way whether it’s worth writing this blog. I feel sorry if I have wasted your time. It’s just that the mind needs to unload from time to time so it does not get clogged. And it’s been an unusual time. The pandemic also helped bring my research in development to a close. Well, sort of.
It is scary when the mind shuts down itself and goes blank. It happened to me one summer. I was working on my small book Rural Sustainability. I would get up at four o’clock in the morning and work the whole day. In the evening I usually took a walk along the river. I’d look at the moon, or the light in the river flow near Key Bridge (looking inspirational), and wish for some thought. Nothing came, absolutely nothing.
It can be equally scary to get lost in these thoughts. So I must end this blog. Last weekend on a bike ride along the river, I saw people eating, laughing, taking photos with friends or family… At Gravelly Point, children were flying kites; little kids were learning to scoot; old people sat on the lawn watching planes take off; a young couple put out a picnic table almost entirely covered by flowers. The big bus is running – with tourists on board. Boats are out too. The river is on the move again, charged with happy sounds.
From my new apartment I can still see my friend on the street. He takes his rocks out in the sun, arranging them as two piles – they must have special meaning to him. Cars are coming and going. People pass by and are about. There are more older people on the streets now. All will be well. New, interesting things will continue to happen in the city. I have faith in its citizens, though I am not particularly taken by the notion of creative class.
