Airports.

Airports. They fascinate me. Partly because I've never flown anywhere, so half of every airport is still a mystery to me, and partly because I've only ever been to one airport, but I've been there half a dozen times or so to pick people up.

I'm also fascinated by people watching, and airports are one of the prime locations for this.

Today, my bestest best friend came home after six months, and I got to be the one who brought her home. I got there early, and waited about half an hour, studying everyone I could. There was only one expected flight between the time I got there and the next two hours, so I knew everyone waiting was waiting for Calgary. Three groups of people particularly caught my eye.

The first was hard not to notice. There were five of them all told; a middle aged-woman, two women up in their twenties or thirties, a boy about fourteen, and a two-year-old girl who could not stop running around. The women kept telling the toddler to look out the window for "uncle", and I figured out that the man they were waiting for was the son of the oldest woman, the brother of the two younger women, and the uncle of the two children. I wondered what he was like. Would he also be wearing baggy sweatpants? Would he be excited to see this toddler? Would he be a carry on-only type, or have more baggage?

Another person I studied was a boy. Seemingly alone, about twenty, twenty-two. A few visible tatooes, big headphones, punk/hipster clothes. He seemed so out of place, and I couldn't imagine who he'd be waiting for. A mother? A close friend? Maybe grandma? He too seemed to be people-watching, and I couldn't help but wonder what he thought I was there for.

The third "group" in my mind was an older woman, somewhere in her fifties or sixties. She sat alone, munching on peanuts, staring out the window. I figured husband or child. Either way, the melancholy look etched into her face made me want to keep an eye out and figure out who she was thinking about.

So a quick note of explanation; my best friend was on a six-month country-wide volunteer program. A ton of groups were posted all over the country, but all ended today, because the program was officially shut down, which is really sad. I haven't seen or talked to her since she left, except the occasional texting.


Finally, a few minutes late, the plane arrived, and people started to file down the escalator and stairs. At first, I was super excited, and then I got more and more nervous. What if she looked so different I didn't recognize her? Would we hug right away? Would she be with anyone? Would she be excited to see me?

I felt like the plane emptied twice over, so many people came down those stairs. In the mean time, I saw the large group of people meet their son/brother/uncle. He wore a business suit, hugged every woman a few times, held the toddler, kissed her forehead, and genuinely seemed happy to be with them. It warmed my heart.

I watched an airport attendant roll an elderly lady in a wheelchair to the elevator. As they were waiting for it, the lady grinned and waved and the woman with the peanuts waved back. There was a distinct resemblance; the kind that makes you realize that this one will look like that one in another twenty years. Huh, I thought. I never would have guessed she was waiting for her mother. As I watched, I longed to know their story, but I know I never will. I can only postulate.

And finally, I saw her! I recognized her instantly, and her me. We waved, and grinned, and she practically bounced down the stairs with her carry ons to hug me. We hugged a few times, and grinned, and studied each other, and finally made our way to the luggage thing. She wore a team group t-shirt thing, and I saw three other people wearing identical ones. One girl hung near us, and I learned she wouldn't be heading home for a few more hours, because no one could pick her up right away. Another girl joined a large family I hadn't seen at all, and the last one raced over to the punk/hipster boy, and hugged him for ten minutes, at least. They just stood there, in each other's arms, soaking in the missed company. It might have brought tears to my eyes if I hadn't been so excited about my own story.

The problem I find with people watching, is that I always long to know so much more. I want to know the why's, and the who's, and the how's. I want to know all about what brought those people to that moment in time, but I have to make do with what little understanding I can make up.

A Lesson in Innocence

I truly believe that children are the essence of innocence. I believe that we could all be truly innocent, except that there is evil in the world, and as we are exposed to evil, we trade in our innocence for what we believe to be understanding.

But all babies are born perfectly innocent, and it is only the world around them that corrupts them. Some children are innocent for a lot longer than others, based upon their environments.

I witnessed a beautiful example of this pure-hearted innocence today, that warmed me to my core.

I live on a very residential street near a few elementary schools, so there are frequently children all over my block. There's one little girl who lives right next door, and two who live across the street that are almost always playing outside together. I think their parents might forbid crossing the street without an adult, because they usually stand on opposite sides and yell things at eachother.

As I got out of my car today, I noticed one of the girls across the street was holding a doll that looked distinctly African American. I thought this was really cool. Since all three girls are white, I admire their parents for that doll choice.

The girl on my side of the street yelled, "Is that doll black?" The question surprised me, but not really. Children see things in very solid, unchanging ways. What really suprised me was the answer.

A hesitant, "No..."

Now I had to see what they said next. The first girl said, "Well what color is it?"

"Skin color."

Isn't that all you need to know? We are all skin color.

Those two words floored me. That children see things so innocently, so perfectly. They only know what the world around them teaches them, and if they are taught, 'This is skin color, and so is this, and this', then what more matters?

Squirrel!

So I told you yesterday all about my job and the animals I see, and today I want to talk about a different side.

Squirrels.

I have a newfound fascination with squirrels.

The neighbourhood I've been working in seems to have an abundance of them, and sometimes I just stop and watch.

A few days ago, there was a squirrel on the ground near me, and I watched it watch me for a few minutes, until it scampered up a tree. Then later down the block, there was a squirrel just chilling out on top of a little feed box, and it peered at me around the tree, but didn't scamper up. I watched one jump from tree to tree a bit yesterday, and then today was the furry icing on the squirrel cake.

I had to tag something in the middle of someone's lawn, and the second I set foot on the grass, a noise erupted. It got louder, and I realized there was a squirrel about ten feet up in a tree in the lawn. He stared at me, and followed me a little, getting as close as possible without leaving the safety of his tree. And he chattered! I felt like he was just tearing me a new one. It was actually kind of cute, but I felt like he was going to start throwing rocks at my head or something. He seemed really pissed. Once I left the lawn, he stopped and went back to business as usual.

I decided I need to raise a baby squirrel. I need to understand their personalities, the way I understand cats. I understand cats because I've raised a dozen kittens from birth. So the solution is to kidnap a baby squirrel.

They seem curious, frightened, timid, angry, bold, shy, territorial, and nomadic all at the same time. I'm sure each specific squirrel has a very specific personality, like most animals do, but they must have some basic similarities amongst each other.

They just seem so full of life and so vivacious! Something that makes me want to tame it, to understand it fully, and to love it.

Squirrels and birds and bunnies, oh my!

So, at work, I basically just walk up and down streets. That's the most basic description. I work for the city, and I tag the GPS locations of specific things in the city, and then take pictures of them. By the end of the summer, I will have covered every single street in our city.

For eight hours a day, five days a week, I just walk. I don 't get to walk at walking speed though, cause I'm looking for things. I keep my eyes trained on the ground, I keep track of the addresses, and I keep my car within at least five blocks of me at all times. It has it's perks, like solitary, a tan, exercise, and solid hours, and it's drawbacks, like solitary, heatstroke, a sunburn, and I still have to work when it rains.

The one big thing I like is that I see a lot of animals. Because I'm keeping an eye out for a lot of things, I notice squirrels, cats, bunnies, a lot of birds, bugs, worms, nests, dogs, and anything else you ever see in a city. I also notice a lot of dead animals, because I spend most of my time watching the ground. Dead things make me nauseous, especially birds.

One day, early on, I was tagging a storm drain, and there was a dead bird in it. I had to take a picture of it. I really thought I was going to throw up. Later that day, I passed two bloody bird wings on the sidewalk. I'm not sure if it was a mean cat or a vicious kid. I've seen countless whole dead birds in lawns, and a bunch of dead squirrels on the street.

The one day, I had to step onto someone's lawn, and I noticed something, like a little pile of dead grass. I saw there were a few blue candy easter eggs around it, and then I clued it. It was a robin's nest and there were four, uncracked robin eggs still in it. I almost cried.

Then the other day, I saw four or five teeny tiny dead baby birds, right on the edge of the sidewalk under a tree. I actually had to tag something just on the other side of them, but I just skipped it. It upset me so much, I wanted to go back to the office early.

I've been thinking about this all, trying to figure out if I'm a wimp when it comes to things like that, or what. I do know that I tend to be on the sensitive side, especially in contrast to my husband, who excitedly described the death of pigeon he witnessed a few weeks ago. But is it silly to be upset like things like this?

I think perhaps I have a hard time dealing with death in general. I've never been close to anyone who passed away. My kitten once died, and I cried for a very long time, but she was only four weeks old.

But I also think I have a special something going on with the birds. They really fascinate me. I could just watch all the different birds fly all day long. I witnessed a crow and a hawk fighting earlier this week, and I was excited. I love the way they build nests, the way they fly, how they eat. I am especially fascinated by hawks, owls, eagles, doves (the usual favorites), and most of all, robins. I've always kind of connected with robins, what with sharing a name with them and all, but I also the love the briallant red of their chests, and the fantastic blue speckled shade of their eggs. Robin's egg blue is my favorite shade of blue.

So perhaps I felt extremely upset by the robin's nest, because I connect with them. Perhaps it is some mothering instinct buried within me that repulses at any unborn or newly born child of any creature facing the end of their life far too early. And maybe it's the child-centered heart I have, that believes all children should thrive. Even pigeons, which may be the ugliest baby birds ever.

No matter what it is, I have decided that it is not silly and I shouldn't kick myself for feeling sad when I notice those kinds of things. I should perhaps feel more sad for the adult birds and the squirrels, but maybe I'm too used to it. You don't see dead babies as often as dead adults.

Well, the point is... Oh shoot, I don't know that I had a real point. I guess just to confirm I am not the only person whose heart strings are pulled at the sight of such things.

Computer Problems

Ah! I finally have my computer again. Wanna know a great story about it?

Well, that day that I first blogged was actually the first day my husband and I bought a brand new laptop just for me. He's a computer guy, so he went through and set it all up, but didn't burn any re-install discs, and rather saved them to the computer and was going to do it later so that I could have access to my laptop right away, the sweet man.

So I went through and customized my background and my theme and set a password, and then logged into my facebook and such, and started a new blog (which is actually the reason we got me my own computer).

Then I shut it all down and went to bed. The next day at lunch time I was overwhelmed with the urge to blog, so I booted it up and... forgot my password.

Here's the catch! I chose a brand new word I've never used before, and thought, "This word is SO easy, I don't even need a hint!" Yeah. No clue what it was. I tried every word I could think of, and had Marc and some friends do the same. No luck. I was so upset. I've always had a bad memory, but this is the pinnacle of anything.

The only thing to do was take it to the computer to a computer shop, and they could either bypass the password, or wipe the computer. A wipe wouldn't bother me, because it was a brand new computer. We just didn't want to pay money and wait around for that. So Marc called up his computer-y friend who dug up some discs that would do the same thing.

They didn't work. At this point, it had been over a week. I just wanted to return it and start over.

Well, I guess Marc wiped the computer, or the computer wiped itself. Something happened. It got wiped. But of course, we didn't have reinstall discs. Marc used his magic computer geinus and made it all work, but it's been two weeks! I'm so grateful for him, and so mad at myself!

So... Let the lesson be... MAKE A HINT! Seriously. I still can't believe I didn't think to make a hint!