a deck of carts

On the way to fellowship last Tuesday night, I ran into a guy who was also going to the same place. He showed me a side street that avoids some of the construction nearest our destination. As we rounded the corner of our detour, I saw four or five carts turned up and stored for the night. They were rusty and ragged except for a band of color down the sides. Beautiful symmetry. I stopped and gazed at them for a few seconds. My company didn't realize I had quit walking until he turned around and saw me fixated on what he probably appraised as glorified wheelbarrows.

It was too dark to get a photo, and I was without my camera, but I knew I'd be back.

I left my apartment about 30 minutes early this morning. I wanted enough time to get some photos of what tempted me on Tuesday night. The diffused morning light made me hopeful. And yes, they were there. A few people passed by and stopped to look at what I was doing, more curious about the crouching stranger with camera than about what might be captivating her. Why does something have to be glossy and sequined for people to pay attention to it?

I think dingy splintered wheelbarrows are much more intriguing.