is the world off kilter? is the earth spinning a bit off axis? or am I just paying more attention lately (or running out of things to do indoors), this evening, winter temperatures laced with spring intentions, all signs pointing in the blooming direction, there was even the occasional peep show of seventy degrees last week, or am I embellishing my own memory, the trees are now fully clothed, the dandelion’s time has crested and fallen, the breeze has a louder voice among the leaves, like occasional waves breaking on the beach, no discernible undulation or pattern, but much the same sound as waves crashing, I feel I am in the eye of the calm, this corner of the world is quite quiet now, the sun setting rays readily highlight the various tribes of leaves on the stage before me, all with the same function but a different design to achieve the same destination, I imagine humans are much the same…
notes… this is monday felt like sunday, or was it sunday, or is this monday? after seeing snow in may just the other day, not today near a freeze?? these are strange days… indeed… (this is part of a series, sort of anthology, the rest is HERE, well mostly, I have a day job you know…)
in the distance I can hear children faintly playing, yells and screams evoke alarms inside instead of joy, in these abnormal times, my instincts, reactions, daily actions, all come into question now… Ring-a-round the rosie, A pocket full of posies, Ashes! Ashes! We all fall down. I wonder if a simple child’s rhyme will outline this stretch of death one day, that, of course will come after, not in the teeth of the pathogenic strife, I have always believed I was a patient person, certainly not a short fuse bomb waiting to happen, just when I do reach that limit I feel like I am up on the absolute edge of a cliff, no other side, no bottom, no turning around but leap… I picture that my candle was great and tall like a fortress castle wall, but burning down for so long now, my wick surely has not much longer to go, and the dawn, I am not a candle-maker, maybe I have to be, or learn to be, I do not know, or should I strive to deprive the flame of bright oxygen, I can not cap all the air, even if I tried my subconscious thoughts would betray and supply, a traitor I harbor inside. This is much easier, today, sitting here on my porch, no mask (aside from the ones I always wear in that other life), no gloves, no one around to be socially distant from, I suppose Fear is taking a nap, he had a busy week with me back at my office, and certainly he plastered my inner walls with doubt, but all seems calm now, with a deep breath, I exhale as much of the negative as I can muster, I envision my candle now, small flame flickering inside my sanctum, the wax of the worn melted drawn out onto the wooden table, the newborn pool of spent liquid wax reflecting a dancing twin, “slowly, slowly” I mantra, “this will all end” with a hope wrapped in a prayer
onward goes, this strangest spring, awaiting the salvation of normalcy to arrive into these harbors overflowed with a cargo of hope… and renewal.
sound, a transport device, a time travel mechanism at least in our memory response, something we all can account for, just now, I was listening to some random ambient on youtube and there was a background sound embedded, buried, a familiar sound, a pinpoint sound, crickets, like devious little natural metronomes, chiming, precise clockwork chirps provide context, surely this is not their true domain, a gloomy rainy cold day, the weather prognosticator already told the fortune of today, rain in spades, or some other suit, but that is the saying, anyway, that pill popped into my subconscious I was already to rue the day, to welcome the disappointment of my appointment with rain, the expected, expected to be understood and ground, I do love a good thunderstorm however, so my hopes were up for at least some rumble, some tussle of spark, a great reminder of nature’s power via rolling clouds of thunder sparked by bolts, yes, I do quite enjoy a good storm, as long as my power stays on, pampered human am I, all the while to watch the tempest from my safe box, admittedly, from comfort, but back to the crickets, I am transported from this somewhat lackluster day to a summer night, by a fire, in the mountains, or even just outside by a lake, but definitely summer, and most definitely night, when the all else of the world is faded, just the subtle crackle of collapsing embers, out past the flickers rising in the sky, the crickets, a constant sound, I could hear that sound in a blizzard and feel comfort, for at least a time, the power of sound to bring my mind somewhere else, sometimes a song, to a place, to a gathering, a party, a wedding, a celebration, I can feel the suit I’m wearing, the clanging of the formal wear, the shoes pound on a dance floor, or maybe just a time, alone sitting watching the waves come in, with a new album on my ipod, a dozen years ago, always connected to that beach, the clear waves of the Key’s lapping my feet, having the dock all to myself, like owning the world and stepping into the scene whenever I like, just a song, and I am there, and there are those who would argue about mystical things… take a listen…
notes… tomorrow will be day three back @ work for me, like, physically instead of remotely, at my office (Bergen County, NJ covid central ground zero in Jersey), granted there are only a few of us there, but I am dealing with all the same things in my head, my brother is helping this week taking care of my folks thankfully, the weather seems to be looking up, at least it wasn’t raining today, my bamboo is booming, as it always does this time of year (you would not believe how much can grow in a day), in my mind I look forward to when it fills out the entire corner of the house like an impenetrable forest fortress of green all year round, that will take years, and I hope for those, those years that is….
PS: found a Chinese restaurant tonight that was open ! yay! NY/NJ chinese take out is an essential thing, something we all (from this area) take pride in in some strange way, there is no way people here would blame them for the virus, I love cooking, but not every night (and only italian places seem open), there is something comforting in getting some wonton soup, shrimp and lobster sauce… and an eggroll, one of those little building blocks of normalcy I can add to the stack.
only with these eyes but these, a pink swath of clouds, there is no perceptible breeze but the trees seem slight shimmering, slow belly dancing, mesmerizing, as I lose myself in the display, focusing only at a particular patch of sky, framed in by branches, twigs, the world sounds flowing, people talking walking by, cars hum on the distant main road less-ly, no planes however, how odd, this afternoon, at least, no eyes have seen, or ever been, to see this exact distinct scene, which begs the question, is this just for me? I feel, I feel slightly guilty with hand half cocked in the cookie jar of the natural wonder, caught, charged, or is this for all who wish to take the time to take this in, for this is spectacle, a convergence of all time to create a quiet place, moment, trace, in space section now, power lines provide context and bisect vision into windows, a lonely goose honks somewhere in the any-direction distance, the rare car speeds by , an anomaly, these days, I count the laps of the walkers and bike riders, never more than three, universal subtle mystery, this is the inner works of the new clockwork of this suburban street, I’m not sure if the robin on my lawn is winning the bidding war, so strange, most human sounds, now, are secondary day by day, out here, how easily we have been tamed.
Notes... part of my porch thing, since I don’t commute (but still work) I do have the time, the need, to sit outside (socially distant of course) to observe things, well, what I can from my little sphere, granted I am writing more of these these days, things change, I change, my blog changes, right now this is what it is and I am what I am (is that a popeye reference?), anyway, seriously thanks for any eyes (content pun intended on this post) and your time, all thoughts and comments are always appreciated, unless I know you and your motives… but that aside, thanks all, we are alive !
what day is this? Sunday you say? I suppose so, what’s the difference? some rogue could hold a gun to my head and I’d swear on Tuesday, I didn’t log my digital self into work today, I think, so I guess that squares that vote down, but everything else? the same. the weather is vacillating, the atmosphere seems quite undecided in mind, sun filled hope has given way to rumors of storm, or maybe the trees are just finding their voice more, more green drapes, buds graduated into kindergarten leaves, every moment struck past one further down the rail line took, spikes driven in, for miles back, through this latest mountain pass, you never know quite where the end of the line will be, and always the questions, the doubts, am I doing this… right? starting over not being an option, as the only direction now and ever is forward, the only place to ever start is this foot right here, now, this step, this one that leads to the next, I must remember that little epithet, like a tattoo perhaps, no, that is voluntary (usually), something more, something with no outer choice, a scar, yes, a scar, something that will pull that next step into a different space, maybe for better, maybe for worse, but forward nonetheless, for lest we let fear stop us in perfect statuesque, to be admired by others in perfect pose, then, left behind, museum, forgotten in some room, or left to creeping moss watching a tomb, I wish to have the fire to live like a lightning bolt, so I might, so I may, I can, but only to turn on that first corner, and turn my back on where I began, a real place no more, a memory, lore, the time now is the journey, forward.
notes… so this is a strange time, especially here in the metro NYC area, or the tri-state area as we call it, kind of hubris, I know, there is many tri-states out there, I could google the results but nah, I get it, we east coaster’s have a bias, I used to be that guy before I started exploring the states, let alone the world, the coasts are biased… but honestly, I can not imagine living away from the ocean even I do not go there nearly enough, some things are a calling, what does this have to do with my post? well… nothing, just my thoughts, back to work, erm, again from home tomorrow, the days blend and are so long now… but yet, so not distinct, am I getting used to this? the supermarket runs twice a week, lining up with my mask (a n-95 type, how sheikh), making meals for my elderly folks so they do not venture out, social life discarded aside from phones and such, sitting out on the porch my only out, and this, some words, patience will win out.
something about a frog in a Jacuzzi, the heat being applied is perceptible, the unnecessary bits are being cast off, the core of our elements are coalescing, all from this undue force, forcing us to pool into a more singular form, extraneous matters seem, well, extraneous, because they are, luxuries once daily amenities fall further from our finger tips, the fanaticism of professional sports seem to have been sidelined rather quickly and quietly, once heralded as the pitfall of perils (or so we were told or sold) – Social Media, now seems to be morphing into some savior in a way, and I suppose it would, how do you isolate but not be isolated? strangely this might be the ideal time for such a dilemma to strike (if there is such timing), however, I can not imagine those who are not as fortunate, in countries not as advanced or those here, no, I feel no guilt for being born here nor for being able to afford some comfort in my life, but lack of guilt does not preclude empathy, that is why I have no ill will to seemingly out of touch celebrities, well, not all of them, some, I am sure are smug little things in ivory towers quite above you, however, for most, they are still human, flesh and blood, just the same, and not immune to the shooting gallery of contagion, and let’s face it, most of us put them up on the pedestals they reside in, we, society, thrust them up into their position, merely performers or just physically gifted lifted to some other level, but the crucible has winnowed this all down, social attrition at the hands of a hunter, an indiscriminate one at that, proof that regardless of stats, hacks, views, likes, visits, follows, zeros in accounts, we are all human, while we may look up from our own status there are certainly those below that deserve our concern as well, so if you can make some sacrifice, however small (or large), please do.
a crucible is also defined as a difficult time or test… and that is certainly this. So remember these lessons in times such as these, wear some empathy as a filter, at some level we are all just we.
notes… in near lock down here in New Jersey, although I am not locked down totally as I support an ‘essential’ service (supermarkets), so for now I am still going to work and such… but how is a lock down total if … we all gather like a gang of vultures in the supermarkets? The line between liberty and safety is being blurred… I am wondering how far will it go… I certainly do not want to infect anyone but I am and have been in every hot-spot there has been, NYC? yep, New Rochelle ? Teaneck? Hackensack?.. check em all, plus my techs that I deal with daily are in and out of grocery stores all day… something is not adding up for me personally… what if this was a really deadly virus (not to down play this one at all but compared to Ebola this is nothing)…. just thinking out loud as usual, from my little blog… that’s all…
Shades of My Garden 