Perception

I'm wondering what, entirely, factors into our awareness of the world and the people and things we encounter in it. What makes one thing stand out to us over other similar things? Is it the rarity, or the aesthetics of a thing; or is it something entirely different?

A couple of weeks ago I arrived home from work, and upon pulling into my parking space I noticed an elderly lady watering the sand-filled planter two doors down. This may not seem very odd to those whom are reading this, but allow me to first tell you a bit about my apartment complex. From what I can gather, I believe this place was originally built in the '40s. The doorknobs, hinges, and faucets are consistent with those in some of the historic buildings I worked on when I was employed by the Department of Parks and Rec. That means that either this building is the same age as the others, or it was built with spare parts. I'm also fairly certain that there have been no significant, professional alterations or repairs made on this building since it's initial construction. From the outside, the building looks like a large pink hotel, and from the inside it looks like a very small pink hotel. Like the building, the grounds appear to be maintained by the residents. Some of the residents are prone to demonstrating both their artistic flare, and their pride in ownership. There are several junk cars, and odds and ends parked at creative angles (some utilizing the "rule of thirds"), which have probably been there since the apartment was new.
Now, back to this elderly woman who is so diligently watering the dirt planter in front of the complex. Many times when people move to the desert, they go through a period of Green Withdrawal. This period is usually characterized by hysterical behavior, and it isn't uncommon for these people to sporadically water sand, in hopes that something will grow there. It doesn't help matters when something actually does start growing there. It’s great sport to watch these poor souls, as they water their patch of sand faithfully every morning, and then a few days later, when a faint greenish hue appears, they howl triumphantly and start serving their little plants a double portion of water. It generally takes them almost a month to realize that they are, in fact, cultivating tumbleweeds. My first thought upon seeing this woman was “oh great, a crazy person.” I got out of my car and walked to the door of my apartment, trying not to make eye contact, but still watching her from the corner of my eye. As I got closer I noticed a bag of what may possibly have been grass seed on the porch next to her, and several little flowers in plastic containers, along with what looked like little packets of vegetable seeds. My perception of this woman completely changed. Apparently she was turning that ugly planter into a little garden of sorts. What a brilliant idea. As I proceeded into my apartment I realized how harsh my misperception of her had been initially. I really liked this idea of planting vegetables in front of the building. The next day, upon closer examination, I realized with dismay that the bag of grass seed, the flowers, and the vegetable seed packets were in fact concrete, plastic, and empty jello packets respectively. It also occurred to me that there were no old women in residence on that side of the building. So once again my perception of this woman changed. Was she just some nomadic geriatric who enjoyed wasting water? I still like the idea of growing vegetables, and maybe some blackberries in front of the complex.

Pet Peeve of the Week: People who stop in heavily trafficked intersections for no apparent reason. I understand and appreciate aimless wandering, but the center of a major intersection is not the ideal place to suddenly decide to give directive to your previously random roaming.

Things I’m thankful for: Anti-lock breaks.