For the past 3.5 years living here, I’ve driven by my favorite door literally hundreds (maybe even thousands) of times. It’s on the side of an old brick paper company downtown. It’s a beautiful avacado green door with the paint peeling and fading off to a pretty gray underneath. There’s an old green tin awning over the cement landing, and there are five or so steps coming up from the right with a simple railing. There’s a scroll-work iron bracket holding up the awning, and at just the right time in the morning it catches the sun and casts a beautiful shadow over the door. As if that weren’t picturesque enough, above the door to the right, on the edge of the building, there’s an old faded advertisement or something, with a white background and black lettering fading into the brickwork, which provides balance and creates what would be a beautiful picture.
I know you’re thinking this would be a lot easier to imagine with a photo, and that’s where the trouble comes. I have thought hundreds of times about stopping to take a photo of the door, but I always was in such a hurry whenever I passed it. I figured I’d just go out some morning specifically for that purpose. Well, I still haven’t done it, and this is what happened to the building last night:
The whole building was consumed, and while I haven’t been downtown to see it yet, I have a sinking feeling that my favorite door is no more. I feel quite sad about the whole thing, actually, and while part of me thinks these strong feelings are disproportionate to the gravity of the situation (it seems strange that I could shed a few tears over an old abandoned building), another part of me recognizes that I’m also sad that I didn’t take a moment to take the photo I was always meaning to take and to recognize the beauty of that spot more fully. So when you see something inspiring today, or if, for example, there’s a spring bloom peeking out from somewhere it may not be tomorrow, take a moment and try to really appreciate it. I doubt you’ll regret it.