I saw a crescent moon in the southern sky about half-way up the curve of heaven. The forest stood silvered for my view, frosted by 8 degree Fahrenheit temperatures and moisture left in air by Tuesday's clement weather. I drove by two newly planted fields of blue berry bushes, the rows of bushes planted in roads diagonal to the freeway, silvered so thickly I could not see twig redness. Clarity was unimpeded this morning, and I believe I could see all the way to the westerly Coopersville exit from Marne. The Welcome to West Michigan billboards made an impression upon me that I was unable to describe, lovely summertime settings standing up before an exquisite background of nature's presentation, hoarfrost and wan blue sky, cold heavy air.
When I drove through Muskegon Heights, I noticed that many buildings had been exposed the elements this winter. An upstairs flat now had all windows open, allowing the elements into the interior, to begin the rotting of floorboards and decaying of drywall. A vacant storefront had four broken windows, recently broken. An entire factory, on Broadway near Broadway and Temple, turned to rubble, some sorted, some carted away, reduced Muskegon's manufacturing capacity another notch. School children making their way to high school had to walk on Broadway, the sidewalks heaped with snow, Broadway still slippery with black ice and poorly scraped snow.
I saw a sign in West Michigan. It said Welcome to West Michigan. Only in West Michigan. (This quites a recent Conan O'Brien twitter joke).
I thought of Conan O'Brien as I noticed those Welcome to West Michigan billboards. I needs get more sleep or take Team Coco off my Twitter feed.
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