August departed with grace…
…cloudy, but benign…
Running outside to get a better shot of these clouds, I sent the groundhog fleeing to her hole.
“Was just getting a carrot before fatso comes back.”
As I finished my latest book last night, we got another heavy shower. Then this morning, September arrived.
Does anyone else see what I see here?
Maybe I am too fanciful.
I’ve always seen shapes in clouds, or felt them, perhaps.
Then there’s lines. I have a “thing” about them too.
Trying to figure out why that might be: lines connect and I don’t like loose ends. So, is that the ‘neat freak’ in me, or is it the separation anxiety thing?
Sometimes a line is just a line.
But this furrow in the grass is a small wildlife highway.
Possums and squirrels mostly follow them. Raccoons and skunks are a little more scattered.
Everyone takes the occasional detour.
In Winter, these paths create important routes through snow. When the ice melts off in Spring, a whole network of mini-routes is uncovered….rodents and their associates are not fazed by the elements.
What these pathways reveal is the instinctual organization of wild creatures that find the shortest path between two points, to minimize their exposure to predators and perhaps the expenditure of energy.
How much better would our society be, if we listened to instinct as opposed to our higher intellect?
Nature is full of patterns, most of which we never see, though it is a wonder of modern times that with the right equipment, we are able to explore the amazing world of micro-organisms.
It must be an exciting time for scientists.
If I was young now, perhaps that’s what I would want to be, though I think my fascination is just to see all these incredible things that populate our planet. I do not have a drive to understand everything.
Must we understand it all? I know discovering the way things work gives us progress in medical science, but I don’t think that is quite the same as understanding.
Would it help me to understand why this seed pod develops thus? I am happy to view it and to imagine those seeds drifting in the wind, carried in a bird’s feathers to who knows where..
Maybe I’ve just always been a dreamer and lately I’ve had quite a few actual dreams, not always especially happy ones, though I can usually work out where the melange came from; a bit of the story I’ve been reading coupled with an email I read the day before and a few bits of ancient history.
The mind, now that’s a puzzle.
The other morning I woke from a dream that was distressing. Knowing that it was a dream did not take away the sadness it evoked.
In my dream I was part of a society that had been separated into groups that had to compete for food. Our valued possessions had been taken from us, including our pets.
When our leaders/masters…whoever they were, came to speak to us they announced that random pets had been sacrificed.
My boy Panther among them.
Panther was not the only cat whose loss broke my heart, far from it, yet when I think back to that last day, it’s as if I am losing him all over again.
It probably seems sentimental and weak-minded, but we do not ask to be the way we are. I was always inclined to weep for animals.
Panther was my buddy, my best friend, my companion. His eyes looked inside my head. I was his person.
And I still miss him.