I listen for the distant cars, hoping they will turn down my street so I might know who they are, I stare out at the same view now as always, some might think it unremarkable, or what different things might I see in this common canvas, that I have not seen before, many times before, but I suppose that is the trick of the thing, the longer you look the more you are apt to reveal the nuances and subtleties you would not get on first glance or random chance.
I was out earlier than usual today-tonight, the robins are singing, not in unison, but individually like a one-up-man-ship contest (but in a cordial manner), much unlike the bickering they engage in when it comes to nightly quarters, the shadows of the leafs on my japanese maple are like dark diamonds dancing on my walkway, all because of the breeze, a little show for me or anyone who cared to pull up a chair to the attraction and pay a modicum of attention, pause the real world and just breathe for a second or twelve, so I sit, barefoot, as weather permits, a bumble bee does a fly by across my bridge like tom cruise, and I must admit I quite flinch and then grin at the ridiculousness of the situation, his only weapon is a suicide sting and I am this big bulky thing between him and pollen, his death blow would be mere inconvenience to me, certainly not a pleasant experience but certainly not worth the jumping apprehension I felt on first impression, it is good to catch yourself now and again, and examine your immediate reactions, the why behind that particular reflex…
a little ant is making a run at my big toe, I feel revulsion, surely it is a strange sensation as it works it’s way above my nail, but against initial instinct I do nothing, I have better things to worry about (I tell myself), of course I am not totally sold on being out of the moment, I can’t seem to forget the little traveler now on toe number two, I look down and upon my feet and wonder… how many miles do I have on these things? and looking further wonder how anyone could have a foot fetish, to each their own I guess, the sun is fading, the world is turning into silhouettes in the rising dark, a lone bird on a lone wire, leaves, trees, all 2D cut outs now, a slight breeze flows across and brings peaceful calm, as the world slows, as the world slips… into sleep (for those not nocturnal)
(this is part of my porch project, so be it, and thanks for the read, I do appreciate it)