Dark

Walking the dog this morning, early, 6:30.  Still dark outside. Very cold. Cooper and I were startled a couple of times, surprised to come upon someone sleeping near the sidewalk, in a doorway, against the wall of a building.  Cooper, being much lower to the ground than I am, spots them first, probably smells them before he sees them.  He approaches with great caution, gives them a wide berth, doesn't want to get involved.

It is surprising how many people sleep outside in Santa Rosa.  By 7:00 most of them are awake and moving slowly along the sidewalks, often hauling their possessions with them, sometimes stashing them someplace well covered with foliage. It seems that in the year I have lived in SR the number of homeless has doubled.  Maybe not, but it seems so.  

Some say "good morning" and some say nothing.  Some scowl, some just look vacant.  None look happy, most resigned at best.

It's cold outside at 6:30 am. Freezing lately.  It makes me feel bad for them and lucky to have a bed with blankets. They have nothing to feel lucky about, at least that's what I think every morning. There is nothing lucky about being alive if your life is simply awful.  

Life is never fair, is it?

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