City skies, little windows

It's possible to go through some days without actually looking at the sky.  Between looking at the road, or looking at the sidewalk, or looking at the lawn, we might spend the day without looking up.

This is more acute that my phone can tell me what the sky looks like.  There's at least 74 apps for telling the weather.  Hell, I even got that star app.  I asked Siri what the weather was the other day.  "The weather is clear and 90 degrees," she said.  It was raining.  Tonight, it's just the opposite.  The doppler radar is showing a big cluster of rain.  But it's not moving.  The ever-present summer pall of haze is clowning the radar.

Spent the entire day today thinking about the future.  Being a planner, that is what we tend to do.  But I forgot to look up.  At no time today did I actually look at the sky.  Didn't even look at the ceiling in the office (not that peeling stucco is much to stare at).  All the future thinking was done crouched forward and pointed at the monitor or the person across the table or marching down the hallway.

Focus is good, but it feels like I failed to aspire.  In the press to lurch ahead, there was no time taken to simply look up.  That does not make a Happy Planner.