This is a picture I did not take of an old man sitting on a curb, hand extended, cupped, pigeon perched on his fingertips, eating, more pigeons on his knees and feet, like a statue in the plaza, observing, sharing, homeless.
This is a picture I did not take of a woman riding into the sunset, dark solar shield obscuring her face, protecting her complexion from harmful UV rays, doing nothing for her brain, as she continued on, helmetless.
Thinking about this makes my poor little brain spin.
This is a picture I did not take of a man riding out of the parking lot, hi viz windbreaker, unzipped, flapping, “Look at me!” “Look at me!” “I’m a SUPERHERO!!!”.
I think I need a riding cape.
This is a picture I did not take of a woman riding down the street, past my car at the light, same time every day, with arms that say, “If I get to the station early I do overhead presses with my bike until the train arrives.”
This is a picture I did not take of my neighbor Jim sitting in a lawn chair under the big shade tree in his front yard, granddaughter on his lap, a large children’s book in his hands, and a giant smile on his face.
This is a picture I did not take of little black birds playing in golden red trees, fluttering from branch to branch, tree to tree, creating bursts of movement, sending leaves to the ground with every skip, hop, and leap.
This is a picture I did not take of a white pickup accelerating onto the freeway, a trail of brown leaves streaming from a large tree branch in the back, blanketing the pavement behind it in a leafy swirl.
Seconds later, no more leaves. Just a bare branch in the truck bed.
This is a picture I did not take of all colors of brilliant light, one after another, entering my eye as I moved my head ever so slightly to intercept the rainbow cast on the wall through the peephole.
I stared down a rainbow. It was beautiful, trippy, organic. I did not take a picture because I could not take a picture. Not a digital one, at least. I took one in my mind.