Monday, November 8, 2010
The Same But Not
I know I post the same images over and over and yet- of course they are not. They are fresh images of the same things but again- they are not. Every moment the image changes as the light moves, as the air cools or warms up, as leaves fall or open again, as this moment passes into the next, as this day passes into the next, as this season passes into the next, as this year passes into the next.
Things may look the same but if we had the ability to really, really see, we would know that there is no same at all.
It may feel like Groundhog Day sometimes (I got you, Babe!) but take my word for it- no.
A squirrel scampers across a branch, passing from the frame of the picture as I snap it. Even his passage changes things. Even the lighting of a bird on a branch which would be impossible to see in that photo will change things.
I have been on this property, in this house, for three days now and I am not bored yet. The tiny fairy which turned into the gargoyle now feels more like a fussy boy imp. He is heavy and he wants me to hold him and he has a runny nose and he asks for a walk and food even as he doesn't really have the energy for either. He's whiny. He's clingy. I know how to deal with such whiny boy imps. I have experience in these things. I will hold him and give him tea and maybe I will take him for a walk, but not too far, just far enough to see how the light falls on the trees on this road, this path. We may walk slowly and we may sniffle and cough, but even a slow shuffle is a nice thing when the light is so THERE for us to observe.
I am out of cat food. That is the only damn thing I am out of. Cat food. Now get this- I have one cat. She is an outdoor cat. I don't even know how old she is. At least fifteen, I would think. She lays outside all day in the sun and she has the most pathetic meow. She and the chickens get along perfectly. They do not bother her and she does not bother them. Recently, she acquired a friend, or at least another cat has been coming around to eat. He is a he with big balls and except for that, he is her Doppelganger. In fact, people have been telling me that they'd seen my cat up at the post office, but no, it was this guy. Mr. Moon named him Baldy and I do not know why.
Anyway, Luna, my cat, and Baldy, whine for cat food and I give it to them and they've gotten the last of it today. And here's the crazy thing- the mice have been after the cat food. I know this because they've chewed on the lid of the bin I keep it in and pooped all over the place. Why the hell don't the cats eat the mice? This makes no sense. The mice want the cat food and the cats won't eat the mice.
I'll end up giving those stupid cats the rest of the venison meat loaf or a can of high-dollar tuna before I get to town. I am not driving sixteen miles round trip just for a bag of Little Friskies.
No. Me and this little snot-nosed imp are going to spend one more day here in Lloyd. It's a good place to be with the light changing every second, the leaves scooping it up and throwing it back at me, the cats lying in the sun, the chickens scratching in the dirt, the dogs wanting in and out, in and out, the heat on and the boxes of tea on the counter. I still have chicken soup, there's salad greens in the garden, still plenty of juice in the refrigerator. I have no complaints.
Same-same as the last few days but not really. Not at all. Fairy-to-gargoyle-to-imp. Light-to-dark-to-light. The squirrels run, the birds fly and then land, the cats are lazy. Me too.