Sublime beauty of impermanence. (Special because it is short-lived.)

It's 9:30. Time to skate. Down the driveway, down the street, walk fifteen minutes, down a hill, coast into an elementary school parking lot.

Skate around back of the school. Hopscotch courts. Not even there five minutes and someone else comes around the corner. He pops some big ollies and impresses me.

As we skate we are silent. As we skate our boards clatter, and echoes bounces off the walls of the school, roll down a hill and float out over rooftops. Summer evening. No one else is out. Bet you could hear us three blocks away.

He leaves, still silent. Skate off in the opposite direction. Now just skate, no board clattering, now silence, ghostly gliding wheels. Smooth. Gentle. Foot down stop. Up concrete stairs.

Onto a field of evenly cropped grass. Not damp yet. Sit on the board anyway. Darkening sky. Distant blue mountains. Rooftops. Streetlights. Pale gold sunset, ribbons. Buzzing mosquito.. Knock it away. Buzzing still, two men's voices.

Imperceptibly slow clouds hang over the mountains. Been sitting in this field how long? An hour? Doesn't matter. The air is fresh and cool.

Wait, is this real? No it can't be. Why does it feel so perfect? Touch the grass. Can feel it. Must be real. What's happening?

Get up, must walk home. Hungry. Exhausted. Go. Swish swish I love the sound of feet on grass. Up through white clover onto the street. That sign on the corner is so vivid.

Whole world is beautiful. Everything is so detailed. To find out, just stop and look. Been too fast and too distracted for too long. Jump back on the board and skate slowly.

Almost home. This night was... My eyes hurt and I want bed. Almost home. Down a hill and around the corner. Home.

Turn the key shut the door drop the board. Down the hall kitchen light on glass of milk. Cold. Sweet. Soothing. Look down at my feet. Shoes are still on.

Walk to the living room pet the cat walk up to my room. Tired. Tonight was weird. Scary. Scary because what if no one else understands?

Everything is sitting there. Right there. And it feels like no one else notices. Notices the shape of that cloud or the texture of the concrete. Notices the orange of the lights or the rhythm of the sprinkler.

Scary because if no one else understands and if no one else notices; alone.