"Hurry the eff up!" I think as the cars started stacking up on River Boulevard. Work sucked, I'm tired, and I just want to get home, wriggle out of my tights and wrap up in my fleece blanket. Instead of speeding up, they all started slowing down even more and I debate giving the Volvo station wagon in front of me a little love tap. As Grandma says, "That's what bumpers are for!" Ok, so she actually says that about parallel parking, not being stuck in traffic but maybe the same philosophy applies. Craning my neck toward the right I can finally see what is holding everyone up: a biker has stopped on the side of the narrow road, but it seems like there is plenty of room to get past him. "Seriously, people, what is your deal? Drive around the guy!"
For some reason, everyone is looking off in the same direction, even the biker whose elbows were propped up on his handlebars as he stared off toward the river. Tapping my steering wheel I look to see what is so captivating. There, over the cliff, framed by the empty winter trees, the sun is breaking through the clouds in a way that made me think a choir of angels might descend at any moment. It looks like thousands of hymnals are coming true before our eyes, in the middle of the evening commute. Inching my way past the scene, I smile at the back of the biker's helmet and wonder how many of us would have missed the sunset if he hadn't blocked traffic standing there to enjoy it.
...the view from my alley when I finally got home...