And a lot of posts today. 14) There's an idea out in the world that life is suffering and the best one can hope for is to endure it, or endure it with some kinda' grace maybe. I don't buy it. I think we (as a species) are capable of so much more. You can see evidence around you if you look for it. Maybe it's not sustainable 24/7, but it's possible. Misery's not really sustainable 24/7 either. 15) If there's a scenic route, I'll usually take it, or took it. Apologies for my lateness. 16) I get excited about all the reading possibilities when I enter into a library or a bookstore. 17) I love sitting around a campfire with friends (new or old) and singing songs and making s'mores. Need to find excuses to do it more. 18) My garden is in a general state of neglect (as are my eyebrows.) I will go visit soon. The garden that is, the eyebrows will have to wait.
Later. Much later than I thought. Stopped to eat something before continuing on to the garden. Read a few magazine articles. Sun hadn't set yet when I got there, figured I would mostly just harvest a few things, lettuce, artichokes, over-ripe cauliflower, water and go. A strange man walked into the garden where I was alone. Asked me about a plant, what I knew about it. I finally figured out what he was talking about, knew the name, couldn't remember anything about it. Suggested he go to the medicinal garden at the University and ask. Tried to describe where that was. His words left his mouth as if he were just learning how to speak, he refered to a street as "that famous street with the shops."As he was leaving me, he pointed out that the moon was out (which is odd only in that it's the sort of thing I would do.) I had to finish watering and chop up some fennel. I saw him in the distance again, almost no one else in the park. Somehow, we didn't cross paths again. The sun had set by this point. Only a couple people left, further away from where we were. The sky was still light, I stopped by a video store on my way home. While I was wandering around they made an announcement that they were about to close. It was 10 pm already. Keep forgetting it's almost solstice. How did that happen?
Got my movies and continued to walk home. Ten blocks from home, the only sound I could hear was the flow of steady traffic on the freeway. Every-couple-of blocks a car would rattle past me up the hill, tail lights disappearing around the bend. The stop-lights had switched to blinking red, sky still pale in the west, stars beginning to emerge. Once, the clatter of bottles behind a fence. Shrill cry of a killdeer briefly cutting through the silence then, just as suddenly subsiding. Then one, then a second plane flew overhead. Probably too late to watch a movie now.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Waiting for my sheets to dry so I can leave
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