It is an early Sunday morning in March. The sun is far from up; it is barely 5 am. Despite the early hour I am awake. I am already on the subway, on my way downtown. I have a long day of traveling ahead of me. We are going to England to escape the snow and not coming back until it is all gone.
So I have a good reason to start my day so early. I am not really expecting to see any people out. I am not thinking twice about the people I do see, it is still too early in the morning. But then, as I sit on the train, I slowly become more aware of the people around me. As I sit there watching them step on and off the train, I realize that there is a big difference between them and me. I sit there with my big bag, prepared for travel. They are dressed up, party-dressed. Some have trouble walking. Some fall asleep on the seat. Laughter and loud voices fill the air.
For me it is Sunday morning. A new day has just been born.
They still live in yesterday.
Future and past all in one moment, one early Sunday morning in March.
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