expectations

Here’s the path up this steep hill (snow always looks flat) of my driveway. It’s been warm so it got icy underfoot and I put ashes down for gripping. But it looks … maybe a little dark? Glum?

That describes my expectations of this day. It was a day for “government proceedings”. I had to drive an hour to the closest office; the appointment had been arranged 2 months ago. I had never been to Littleton, NH. I expected the whole endeavor to be long and unpleasant.

In fact, the drive was gorgeous. The road passes through Franconia State Park and the mountains were gleaming with snow. Then Littleton itself – what a hip little town. I never would have expected. And when I got to the government office, it was … efficient! The appointment went easily. Afterwards I thanked the kind young man who helped me and he handed me an envelope to send back to him with some forms I was missing. His last name was … Bliss.

So I knew I had low expectations and that everything had exceeded them. But Bliss? At a government office?

I have good days doing art. But bliss? Even great days. But bliss?

Actually, that’s what’s the most fun. Not knowing. Not knowing when (or where) I’ll find the sublime.