Thursday

It was a cold morning -in the high 20s with a bit of drizzle. So I got on my bike with a bit of trepidation and three layers from head to toe. The heat of the earth had kept the ground from freezing despite stubborn ice on windshields. The cold air against the small slice of exposed nose and cheeks felt clean. My legs worked and my core heated up. I wasn't the only biker out there, but no one was in shorts. And the homeless woman I wonder about was still there, under the same bridge sitting stoically as always, but bundled up more tightly with more layers making her lumpy figure just a bit larger. I was headed to a warm office with warm interaction. She sat. Alone. Quiet. Three weeks ago during a cold spell she was gone. I wondered if she had moved to a shelter for the winter. But she hasn't. It worries me. But I have no idea what her reality is like or what I could do to make it more of what she might want. So, I go on and just wonder.