Airplane stars

One of my favorite things about traveling is the way details make an imprint on my mind. A few examples:

* I can still see the way my very first bubble tea jiggled as I walked away from the street vendor in Singapore.
* While driving through the streets of a small town in El Salvador, a man carrying a basket on his shoulder cocked his head as our truck zoomed past. I remember his eyes.
* In London, the sun was setting as I walked along the River Thames. I remember the way the sun hit the words "London Bridge" as I walked by.

Tonight, I went for a bike ride after work. And somewhere in that sea of tan houses that is my suburban existence, several details emerged.

* On a hillside bordered by condos, a swath of bushes blushed yellow amidst green grass swaying in the wind. Fall is coming.
* A drop of water from a sprinkler hit my glasses and suddenly one stoplight became thirty as my vision fragmented like a fly's. It looked like Christmas.
* The low rumble of airplanes coming in to land at Denver International Airport drew my gaze upwards. There twinkling in the sky were half a dozen airplane stars.

And that's when I realized that every place on earth -- even the soulless suburb -- holds beauty. Sometimes we just have to look for it...or wait for it to reveal itself in the smallest of details.

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