The church bells chiming across the street at the top of the hour made me miss the train horns and whistles that used to interrupt our days and nights. The trains didn’t pass by our former home at the top of every hour—each chain of train cars rumbled along the tracks beside our house whenever it was time for them to rumble along the tracks beside our house, their intrusion a reminder that predictability can be elusive.
Which sounds interrupt your days?
Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below. Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 22s.