I've been thinking a lot about yeast
lately, which is something I never thought I'd think about a lot.
Different strains used to create different effects in beer. The
amount of variation is staggering.
This is true not only of yeast but of
all life. Even confining ourselves to this planet, as we necessarily
must at this moment, there is tremendous diversity. Factoring in
whatever else might be out there... well, it makes my head hurt.
* * *
The photo was taken from a train. The
Pacific Surfliner, from Solana Beach to Anaheim. This is
somewhere between Encinitas and Oceanside, can't say exactly where.
Something about watching strangers live their lives while I pass by
at high speed always gets me. It's the same when I'm in a car,
particularly on a long road trip.
Every one of those people is a
characters with their own story. Someone should tell that story. And
if I can't know them, then I can at least concoct something
believable in my own mind. Who is that bicyclist traveling south?
What is her destination, and why? And who are the people walking in
the opposite direction?
The photo captures a shared moment in
these three lives that none are likely aware even existed. The
bicyclist almost certainly has no memory of the walkers, and vice
versa. Yet here they are, frozen in time for as long as the photo
survives and there is someone to view it.
* * *
In an actual story, maybe they meet.
The bicyclist stops to watch waves rolling in from the ocean. She
says hello to the walkers and they have a brief chat. Maybe they
never speak again, or maybe they become fast friends who get together
once in a while. The amount of variation is staggering.
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