Lindenwood Drug
Lansdowne & Jamieson, South St. Louis, MO

While aging, I’m learning to just float down the river of life. Rather than doing a lot of rowing, I prefer seeing where the current takes me. But there’s one thing I can never “get Tao” with: fall & winter.

The cold frightens me, and at the first hint of chill in the air (anything under 60 degrees), I freak out and drag out the electric blanket. I can be accepting of traffic jams, but I can’t accept the changing season? Like my moaning will change Mother Nature’s plan? I’ve picked the silliest topic to get upset about.

But I did manage to find some beauty in the drudgery of driving to work in the dark before Daylight Savings kicks in. Home lights glowing warm under cold navy blue skies is a comforting sight, and then there’s the cinematic sight of Lindenwood Drug at rest.

White lights, white door, gigantic globes of white mums shining out of the black. I’ve begun looking forward to seeing this site, a beacon in the dark. I chose this particular morning – our coldest one so far – to make peace with the cold and hop out of the warm car to capture this scene. I was so entranced to finally stand in the scene that I didn’t even feel the chill.

Home Near Fyler & Jamieson
Each morning, I also enjoy the sight of this basement side door illuminated by one light bulb. Not exactly sure why; it must be triggering a subconscious sentimental memory. Since I’d willingly plunged into the cold several blocks back, might as well capture this one, too. So I did.