No time, every second spent twice. Finally space to fill, computer on…no “connection.”
The screen tells me “working on updates.”
Progressing from 100 percent, to zero percent, to 30 percent complete.
Life–you start at 100 percent, and spend the rest of the time working on updates.
Posted in Reflections on the everyday | Tagged computers, time | Leave a Comment »
Remember, the moon is bright because it is looking at something we cannot see.
Posted in Reflections on the everyday | Tagged moon | Leave a Comment »
Black ice this morning. Pretty treachery. Transparent deceit hidden until after the fall.
Picking along on foot, I finally located traction at roadside, in the residue of the last big meltdown.
In the thick of things, we throw what we can at the blizzard to keep from sliding off. After the storm subsides, it turns out the effort, and the good energy, live on, in the grit left behind. Useful to know.
Posted in Reflections on the everyday | Tagged ice, winter walk | Leave a Comment »
A blanket lies over the garden, crusty white.
What remains standing, in glorious decline, is known as the winter garden. But I know better.
Beneath the snow, in the ground, microbe and mulch, root and rot, the crowns of spring sleep.
Protected from upheaval, they shelter. Gathering, to push forth when light lingers longer.
Real strength rests below, embroidered with the deceit of decay above. Winter garden.
Posted in Nature, The Garden | Tagged Snow, Winter garden | Leave a Comment »
Snow finally showed. Wet and heavy, courtesy of El Nino somewhere in the equatorial Pacific.
On Walkabout, the sidewalk was somewhere under the tide. Snow plows hurled slush upon the compacted snow. A frothy wave permanently rested on its beach.
Like any beachcomber, I left only footprints to mark my passage. Soon they will melt too.
Posted in Reflections on the everyday | Tagged Snow, snow plows, the beach | Leave a Comment »
Quiet, watching, underground. The season is as the dead. Too late to change what was, too early to say what will be. A reasonable drive toward madness, or something else.
Inalterable change, greater than the days of the calendar, is underway. On foot to a new land, or just surviving until tomorrow, the present is breaking its bargain with the future. Can you feel it?
Melting ice a world away creates rivers to the sea. Movement, ceaseless movement, away from stability, toward fluid, restless change. Electric impulse, blinking eye, tipping point. Here.
Ripping panic, any country, the crowd turns. Some trampled, some survive. Machines rain from the sky.
Brutality, frail flesh falls, bones bleach.
Raise your hand. Strike, defend, or answer.
Spin the protest, business as usual.
The sun pales to the onslaught, a spider navigates a windowpane. Look away. Evade the futility of Now.
November butterfly flits toward twilight. Or something else.
Posted in Nature, Psycho-Bubbles, Reflections on the everyday | Tagged change, darkness, migration | Leave a Comment »
On Walkabout at dawn. The moon leads Venus and one trailing star westward as the sky lightens.
Curious autumn wind stirs still fully-leaved trees.
Ceaseless rushing sound, swirling, piling up, rolling on.
The trees are like ocean waves. I try to hear, what they try to say.
Posted in Nature, Reflections on the everyday | Tagged autumn mornings, trees, wind | Leave a Comment »
The hum is more than the air conditioner outside an office on a summer day.
Accommodating cottonwoods add to the tune.
One dead tree in a lush, diversified greenbelt. Does it add? Subtract? The choice is yours.
Merciful cherry branches shield me from the sun.
One brilliant yellow daylily, like a star, blooms through a chain link fence.
Steps away, north-south traffic tends to rush hour.
The hum is more than the air conditioner, or the traffic, on a summer day.
Posted in Reflections on the everyday | Tagged hum, summer day | Leave a Comment »
Doorways
They are everywhere these days
To my office
Between walls, between people
To the outside, in space
Such a time, when doorways are everywhere.
Posted in Psycho-Bubbles | Tagged Doors, liminial space | Leave a Comment »
Shouldn't...but Do 