Ahhh…rain…
Gratitude for…H2O
Ahhh…rain…
Prints
Within the confines of the coded gate are the manicured lawns of million-dollar homes with sweeping ocean views. It’s a quietly-known, favorite spot for locals, as pedestrians and bicyclists are given free access to this protected haven from sunrise to sunset.
Today’s rainy morning keeps most the dog-walkers at home, though the construction workers arrive at the most recent building project with steaming styrofoam cups of coffee from the mini-mart. Hoots and hammers are heard from the raw beams being erected in early light.
I take my gentle walk along the smoothly paved road, noticing the muddied prints of a pig. This island is fraught with wild pigs and chickens, both considered invasive nuisances, and both of which observe no regard for boundaries.
On one side of the paved path is a mansion with a mythic ocean view. On the other side, is the old, rusting wire fence, marking the end of nature groomed, and the beginning of jungle wild. I can see the bent wire at the base, the hole where pigs will enter, sans any gate code.
It humors me to see cloven hoof prints making tracks on the leveled street. They are like dainty shoes carrying pudgy bodies that do not heed a fence line. Unaware, they tread on prime real estate. Leave their mark.
Neighboring mammals, much the same as ourselves.
Amble Ambition
I’m still working on welcoming the emissaries of illness. That is to say, that I continue to find myself slowed down with a funk that’s been keeping me from going about my days at my typical pace.
In my last post I reflected on the value of non-resistance to disease, as it necessitated me surrendering to a shift in my world. Still exploring this concept, I took another leisurely morning walk.
Along the way, I met a few fellow travelers that seemed to be making calm, steady headway on the path. Intrigued, and wanting to take time to really watch, I found myself on all fours on the asphalt, observing and taking a few photos.
At one point, a bicyclist came pedaling by, looking puzzled and gruff, as though my posture was offending him. I said “good morning” but he just whizzed by.
If only he could have seen the gajillion legs moving in fringe-like unison, propelling the millipede across rocky terrain. Or see the way the sunlight shone upon the bulbous antennae, directing the snail in its delicate stream across wet grass.
As I’m finding my balance a little more everyday, my body heals and returns to equilibrium. And I know I will eventually return to moving with more ambition in the days to come. I hope I can still bring a bit of amble along the way.
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