introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- panta rhei nothing stands still - 10 july 2014 "sticky and sweet, the orange trees are in heat and the summer air is good enough to eat. sticky and sweet, the bees are buzzing all around me because they heard you call me honey."~agent ribbons summer is in full swing here now. last night, at sunset, when i was driving back to work from lunch, in the orange purple light, i noticed the day lilies closing up after another day in the burning bright light. the queen anne's lace grows thick along the sides of the road. i've seen brown-eyed susans coming in, cornflower that grows taller than me, and daisies wilting away now that the days are hot and long. i've started setting my alarm for ridiculously early, no matter how late i go to bed. i'll get rest in, now, don't worry...but i just want to enjoy these mornings before i trudge off to work. this morning, mark told me about our percussion instructor's wife drowning in lake erie a day or so ago. she'd gone out for the kiddos that were floating too far out and drowned rescuing them. i was dazed. i wouldn't know how to overcome something like that. i got a shower. before pulled on my woods-clothes, i tried on the swimsuits that arrived while i was at work yesterday. i'm pretty happy with them. i've never owned this many bathing suits at one time in my life. i found my pile of gift cards that i've saved from work incentives and ordered some pretty new bras and things...something i don't usually do for myself but i've been pretty happy with this strange body lately and hey, my boobs aren't getting smaller at this point, guys. i've lost 4 sizes in some clothes since i've moved here and i'm really happy about that. my curves are redistributing to strange new places, i'm shape-shifting again. i'm feeling strong. i am getting faster and faster on my walks, stopping less to rest and more to let sam plunge into the brook to cool off or stop at a running stream so he can drink. i think he is feeling as healthy as i am these days. today was a landmark day for me, guys...i've been watching for the pileated woodpecker since i found those incredible holes in the trees a few weeks ago. i've heard them calling up in the trees and the echo of their knocking in the woods nearly every day but couldn't spot them. i've found a few nests that i thought might be theirs. today, a male swooped right in front of me, the fingery-feathers of his wings gliding then flitting, his bright red crest a flash before he was gone. i might have squealed audibly. sam was unimpressed, sniffed, and kept on trotting down the trail. i found strange bugs today and spotted the summer's first bright green young grasshopper. i've definitely tested the deer fly remedy for a few days now and i can report that it works consistently so i'm no longer plagued by those awful things anymore. they're terrible, guys. i found a strange green caterpillar trucking across the gravel path and stopped to squat and watch him. sam stretched out in the grass patiently. i'd be meeting my 20 minute mile goals if i'd just stop staring at all the bugs and birds and all of it. i just can't stop looking at everything...but i am happily reminded of a Heraclitus quote that i always loved about not being able to step into the same river twice. i cannot go into the same woods twice. orchids are replaced by knee-high purple clover, the swampy muck of spring's rotting leaves and mud have been replaced with ferns and grasses that are as high as my shoulders. the wet smell of a rainy season now masked by the smell of the sticky sappy trees and wildflowers. every day, i'm fascinated by what i might find. but you know, keep up that pace, right? a bird girl and her conundrums. in the parking lot, i was approached by a red-headed fella wearing a hat and holding a walking stick. he approached me slowly and stated only that he presumed that sam was 'some kind of hound.' "yes. you are correct, sir. he is a bloodhound," i replied. the fella proceeded to pet my dog until the woman he was waiting on called him back over to spray him down with bug spray. i'm not used to people directing questions about sam to me...usually they ask him directly and i'm forced to just speak for him. it's a strange arrangement. i ran into them again on my way out of the woods and they both came over and talked with me for a bit. why didn't i ask them their names? why didn't i introduce myself? they were nice. i'm not sure. i never think of those things until people are driving off to the highway never to be seen again. i'm very bad at making new friends sometimes. i'm out of practice at this. who knows. maybe i'll see them again. i see so many people every day that i recognize now. i make up stories for them. there is a new character, a hipster dad that invariably has some version of khackis, a t-shirt for some trendy destination (today, simple: vail) and the same brown flip-flops. he is always drinking diet mountain dew from a can and picking down the trail, seemingly aloof and uninterested in his surroundings. all i can think when i see him is, "flip-flops? really?" he probably doesn't even have kids but he seems the right age for it. he never says hello so i don't, either. he is like a ghost, anyway. some sort of hipster wood-prophet with a soda-problem. so nothing much. just loving on the woods like usual, i guess. this is exactly what i imagined when i signed the papers to come here. this is exactly what i was dying for all those months ago. contentedly yours, ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .what came before. - .what happened next. a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017 |
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