This is how it is then. Walking down the road in the middle of October, the driest October ever. The winds wrestle between cool and warm, east and west. This is how it is getting older. You imagine what it will be like someday but most of us decide it’s not for us. Think we can will it away. Now the leaves are brown and the evergreens are rust-colored, dropping their fronds. Most of what holds these trees up is unseen. They only live to stand, it seems. They fall, and that is expected too. More life grows out of the fallen, it’s like having kids.

All is quiet on a Sunday morning walking to the lake. But for these strange winds that make the leaves rattle, it could be like a cornfield in the middle of nowhere, the sound of dry, papery husks. A tree frog croaks like a barn door swinging on a hinge. Yet when you come to the lake it is still the same. It is good to find something as you remembered it. It is reassuring that the world is how it’s always been, how you expected it. That’s for you and your view of the world. It’s also something to think, it will be like this when you are gone. And part of you will remain, for all these times you came here to honor it. This is the way we think.

Tiny life flickers about when I run the hose. Birds, bugs, frogs find the drips and drabs in the system. The lip around the planter pot where the water collects, the leaking spout pooling in the dirt. All that life unseen around the edges comes to the surface now. All that life surrounds us, though more and more it seems we forgot.

Categories: prose, writing

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10 replies

  1. “All that life surrounds us, though more and more it seems we forgot.” Yes, seems we forgot we are a part of it.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks duder. Saw Hell or High Water this weekend. You seem that? Good, but I’d argue Chris Pine is too good looking for the role, he actually distracts like that.


      • Yessir, saw it. Pretty good, that one. Must say I did think Jeff Bridge’s character was a bit derivative of Hank in Breaking Bad, what with his off-color humor at his sidekick’s expense, and also a little Tommy Lee Jonesish, as in No Country For Old Duders.

        Liked by 1 person

      • No country for old duders indeed, that’s awesome! Glad you liked it, thought of you with the Texas business and so on.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. The gentle poetry of this pastel piece has a soothing rhythm, Bill. Replete with autumnal wistfulness.
    With many parts of Victoria (including some sections of Melbourne, but not us) inundated by floods, my response to your piece is tempered by breakfast news footage of the quiet, inexorable destruction of nature. And the flimsiness of human existence.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. But we have wisdom, right? That’s the payoff. Gravitas, yes? Tell me it’s so.

    Liked by 1 person

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