How to stand when you're looking at nothing

Vermont Ave. Outside Apartment building. 4pm. Late June. A Thursday. Holding a camera bag and a gym bag - both slung over my shoulders.

I cross the street and get within feet from entering my building, but I notice my mind is a bit racey and I don't want to leave the street in a frazzle. I decide to stop, pull off to the side a bit and collect my mind.  I turn to the street and decide that whatever I see I am going to stare at until my mind is still.

Two middle aged women stand at the crosswalk waiting to cross. I can hear their conversation but it's Armenian so I shut it out like it's the wind.   Across the street is a large tree in front of the Christian Science Church - whatever that is - and it casts a large shadow onto the side of the building. This is what I look at.  Only moments in I start thinking about how much you notice when you stare at things.  The same things you walk by every day you start to notice new details.  You start to get new thoughts about these things.  The shape of the tree in particular comes off as odd.  It's like saying a word over and over again until it loses it's meaning.  The tree is strange, like no longer a tree.  A speckle of light beams off the cars as they pass and streaks across the shadow.  A passer enters into my periphery and passes through my vision.  What do I look like standing here? My arms are to my side. I'm still. Definitely a bit strange, but I don't move.  Back across the street, a couple of unrelated people, that is to say, strangers, both wearing variations of blue walk behind the tree and pass through the shadow.  I want to follow them but I don't take my eyes from the space.  The light on the building that surrounds the tree shadow is so bright it starts baking colors into my eyes. The red curb turns purple. Whizzing cars pass through swirls.  I blink and the tree turns back into a tree.  I look down then shift the bags onto my shoulders for better comfort. I look back at the tree, pull out my keys and head to the door.  A woman is there fumbling with her keys. She looks back at me, flustered and smiles.  I smile back and wait.