other side of the world

it's a tuesday night, not unlike any other. tonight, though, i delayed pressing the power button on the tv remote for a reason i wasn't quite sure of until i found myself sitting quietly on my front stoop in the dark. the lone street light in front of my house illuminated the two rows of neighboring lives, presiding over the routines and evening activities each house contained inside. tvs flickered inside shade-drawn windows, dogs barked in fenced-in backyards, and cars rushed by on their routes home from work. home to catch dinner before it got cold, or to embrace children and spouses at front doors. as i sat, i took note of how crisp and cool the air felt as faint chills crept slowly upon the skin on my arms and i warmed them back and forth with my palms. the electricity of a September evening such as this showed evidence of one season's quiet exiting and its' replacement having its own, different energy. at the train station several blocks away, the boxcars passing through sounded their whistle of hello, as if they also noticed the air's crispness and were calling out to it. i thought of places and far off lands and then remembered the times as a little girl when i would ride my bike all around what felt like the entire globe to such a tiny view-finder, yet was probably only 2 or 3 streets. after my explorations, i'd park my bike at the end of our cul-de-sac and sit on its' red rubber seat dreaming of the little girl on the other side of the world i was so sure was doing the exact same thing at that very moment. i would talk to her as if she were merely sitting across from me indian-style, not continents away. even then, i seemed to understand the idea that we are all so connected as humans that our individual moments could collectively collide at precisely the same time. at least i hoped they did from time to time. the truth in that thought less important, of course, than perhaps the necessary belief in connections outside ourselves. that is, afterall, what it means to believe in something, worldly or other-worldly, spiritual or non-spiritual. food for thought, as the night crickets chirped like the hands of a clock sounding down the day which was nearing closer to the next.