Sol's Random Stories

On certain nearby streets, they're numerous. Liquidambar straciflua, more commonly known as the American sweet gum tree. What a benign name! It's certainly not the tree's fault,  have to remind myself. Nature, intrinsically efficient, decides by practicality of design, so there is a purpose to every trait. No assignment to be the favorite of some other species, although that too happens.  Myriads of factors apply, choices of logical necessity and replication, evolutions in kind. A few times a year, this tree grows these obnoxious, hard and spiky seed pods. In a brisk wind, they all get blown  to the sidewalks by the hundreds , blanketing the block with menace, especially for my dog and me on our many walks. Made the mistake of trying to crush one under my hapless sneaker- painful surprise- they're inexplicably like rocks. No doubt, this tree has its good reasons. It's likely they're defensive against bird prey and other potential enemies, I get it. Protection of...

He couldn't have been over thirty. But, after some time on the street, it becomes harder to guess age. Absorbed in his effort, he put the finishing touches on his intricate chalk design, a glowing mandala.  His colored chalks lined up neatly above his creation, seven or eight vibrant pastels, some only small nubs left. While carefully making some very thin, white lines, not looking up, he asks "Spare change or food?" Entering the 7-11 without responding, only nodding which he doesn't see, I swing back the glass door to whoosh myself inside. Quickly grabbing the box of eyedrops I came for, then adding a hot dog and pizza slice, before my swift exit. Handing the artist his food, he replies simply with "God bless you.", and I am saddened that he's so grateful-- why? The art of hunger is a circular misery, uncertain like a daily maze, or labyrynth of curves. Walking home, I'm trapped in a fog of unsettled thoughts and cold air. Started this year with a v...