An image for today

This morning as I drove to a conference to give a talk, I sat in a long line of cars at a stop light. The stoplight glowed red against a gray sky; Seattle gray: cloud covered, but not wet.

A man walked past me, going the other way. He appeared homeless. At least a week's stubble decorated his lined cheeks. His hat was pulled down over his head. His head was down, his gaze low, as if the sidewalk in front of him held every secret in the world. His shoulders were down. His clothes were dark and slick; patched and worn. Around his left leg, below the knee, he wore a knee cup like a children's skate protector. It was the only white thing on him. Except for faded white words on his gray backback:

DEFY GRAVITY.