A Morning Walk

Today I managed to get outside just past 6 a.m. I missed my 5 a.m. midsummer walks altogether this year, without any real excuse beyond internal chaos. Now the sun doesn't rise until much later so at 6:11 a.m. the world is still cool and blue. Today I went to the pond instead of out along the tracks.

There were far fewer birds than expected. I did not see or hear any quail, nor any ravens, which struck me as odd.  There was one roadrunner in evidence, for a few moments. But mostly I heard nothing beyond the occasional motor passing by on the road. Then I wandered around behind the pond. 

There are rocks. There is garbage. Just below this rock there is one with a bright blue "F-You" painted on it. 

There it is. You didn't need to see that, did you? This is the Kali Yuga. The sun came up; it shines without favor on all of it - the spiral of creation and the F-you of the Kali Yuga.

I felt subdued. The air was fresh and the light clean and clear. Yet I am tired of everything here, no matter how beautiful it can be. Perhaps my exhaustion is part of the Kali Yuga. Perhaps it's my age. Perhaps it has to do with living somewhere just too long. I'm a hunter-gatherer at heart. 

I do love me some countryside, though. Wild sunflowers bloom in languorous disarray, thick piles of white Datura trumpets fill culverts and dot roadsides, tiny sweet purple grapes with one big stone in each are plentiful on every vine threading chain link fences in town. They are almost too much trouble to eat, but so sweet I press on with bliss! Even my hollyhocks are starting to bud again at the root.

So I'll simply note my discontent and move on into the day. We have no plans to move. But so much for planning!