Sunday, September 27, 2009

thinking too much

thinking...I can drive right into a stall in my local lube shop and have my oil changed in 10 minutes...the last time I stopped at the clinic for a physician to examine my throat and say "uh huh", I waited two hours in the waiting room and another 20 minutes once inside the surgery.
From these two experiences, I deduced that cars are more important than human beings in our society.
Recently, my town decided to put a road through a local park, to make it easier for people to get from A to B...without having to go around that pesky park. Too bad for me, I bought my house at the outskirts of the park, on the road they intend to make into a thoroughfare...oh dear, there goes the neighbourhood...oh well...and this in spite of the letters to mayor and council, mla, petition signed etc. Maybe there is gold or oil to be had in the park...? So, from this I deduced it is more important to get places fast than to save our global air filtration system. These are just a couple of things that I find strangly disconcerting...I find my head shaking from side to side.
This time we are in reminds me of a time I read about long ago, where things were not as the people felt they should be and they did something called at that time...protest... another time it was called a revolution...I wonder if people do this any more...or if they just sit and twitter?

Friday, September 18, 2009

Fern Fronds and Empty Ponds

On feeling empty.

That day, late spring, this feeling of foreboding of nothingness had crept in and made it's nest in the pit of my stomach. There was nothing for it, I'm afraid, I picked up my usual restore, a book of sumi poetry...nothing and nothing more.

Couldn't shake it, my heart was squeezed by the hollowness just below and the sharp pain of it breaking jabbed and stabbed, needling away.

I turned from the book, opened the door and walked through, on to the little patio I loved so much. I remember the smell of the earth after a long hard rain...all ozoney and fresh and new. That fragrance of composting deposits of leaves and needles from the fall before. This began to fill me. Then, over to the right, beneath the