Much Later

I thought my concerns were silly. I'm not even privy to most information, but something struck a wrong note, and I was wondering what that was. If one thing then another. If not one thing. I could never hit a major-league curve ball, I always flinched with a hard ball coming at my head, backed out of the batter's box. But Kim agreed that I was being, what's the correct word, 'studied' by someone. Investigated. Not much to find, truth be told. Marinating animal parts and a rubber suit. I did kill a rattlesnake, about ten years ago, but I think the statute of limitations has run out on that. Fog, running up the hollows, it reaches the ridge then dissipates. Heavy air, the bugs and birds are slow to get started; then a flash of red, then another, as two Pileated Woodpeckers move in to work the trees. It's so green that their crests are like blood-spatter. A cup of coffee and a morning smoke out on the back porch, the noise level rises as the natural world wakes and shakes off the dew. Still Spring, cool, the vaporous mist; Impressionist, with a sound track by Phillip Glass. I must have sat there for a hour, another cup of coffee, another cigaret; absolutely serene space. Varieties of experience. I could hear equipment down on the road early, and the road is closed (they would have let me out, but I didn't want to get tar on the car) so I stayed on the ridge. Supposed to be open again tomorrow. I might go into town, because Scott said he wanted to get some soft-shelled crabs for fried crab sandwiches. I need to go to the library. Puttered a bit outside, then came in and picked off ticks, then did a little cleaning, making piles for Good-Will, and for recycling several hundred pounds of paper. Time is an interesting construct, and something got me side-barred on that today. The Luna Moths are back, maybe that was it. One came when Kim was here, and a huge one tonight, spectacular creatures. They factor time. So do oak trees, the rocks at Arches, and the screen display on everyone's cell phone. It's slippery, that whole continuum, past, present, and future. I wear knee-boots, and step carefully. The world is in a terrible state of chassis. When very bad aid (85% profit for a non-profit) finally reaches the ground, there is nothing left; if I feed you ten million, then you should certainly feed me back a hundred million in return, because everyone would think we're doing something noble and should get a billion from the EU. We're bad, no doubt about it. But I'd never do that.