Steady State

Everything changes, nothing changes. Note the Red-Bud, the few remaining Dogwood, they cycle again and color is the rule of day. The sun makes a statement, the moon. Gathering morels I disturb doves making love, they move a few feet, oblivious, and continue their courtship. Recent rains have scoured the creek beds to bare rock and water runs clear. The fecund spring scent of rotting leaves. What goes around. They say an asteroid, Apophis, will come close in 2029, inside the orbit of certain satellites, but we can worry about that later. For now, there is another dawn to deal with, another wakening. Between funerals and Arts Council meetings I'll be the only staff today and there's a show to hang, the yearly High School opus, angst ridden and slightly garish. There is some talent apparent, but nothing yet to say. One still-life caught my eye, and a painting in somewhat Fauve fashion; the pottery is too thick, the collages too obvious. A shroud of fog envelopes the ridge, I'd best leave early, drive slowly. Top of the morning.