Monday, September 4, 2017

Paying Attention Is Paying Tribute

There's one place on the path in my walk where this time of year the air is virtually alive with butterflies and dragonflies and birds, too. It's a nature-planted butterfly garden and today I simply stopped for a moment to witness all of the life dipping and darting and swaying and alighting and soaring in the late-summer air. It felt as if perhaps I was seeing the very apex of life in North Florida as every creature was taking in the last of summer's abundance.
The places in the path which are sandy were covered in the baby-toes-looking prints of the raccoons and I wondered what it must look like there at night- a woodsy highway of small furry animals, going about their nocturnal business under a silver moon.

There's so much on my heart today. And anxiety clouds everything. The walk, however, and  a shower afterward, helped. I've talked to my husband about us taking some steps to get ready just in case a category five hurricane does decide to come this way. Tanks for generator need filling, generator needs testing, batteries need to be gotten, water, food, cars filled with fuel.
There is always so much to be anxious about if one does not have the proper filters.

A planet which seems to either be on fire or flooded.
Phone calls.
Doctor appointments.
A president who, upon leaving a shelter for displaced victims of a hurricane who have possibly lost everything they own, says, "Have a good time!" before he boards Air Force One with his model wife.

Like that.

Meanwhile, here we are and no matter what the hell is going on in this world or in my own tiny head, it would be a sin not to stop and notice the butterflies, the dragonflies, the birds and the sky and the first red leaves which are dropping to the ground (yes, even here, even now), the slight change in temperature and humidity, the minuscule fern-banked pond which lies so still and quiet right behind the old gas station, the beginning buds of firespike, the sudden shooting up of hurricane lilies, the humming chatter of the crickets.

And of course, the color purple. 

And so I do. 

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. Thank you, Mary. This post has relieved some of my Anxiety too. We have our water,gas and batteries too. I wish there was a way to plan for the other shit. Irma seems to have a mind of her own. Much love.

  2. I remember Hurricane Katrina and being surprised at how many people were not prepared. I imagine it's hard to stockpile if someone is already living in poverty doesn't know where today's food is coming from, let alone 3 weeks worth. It did help me get my act together as we live in an earthquake zone. We are probably better prepared than most but we still need a few things to put my mind at ease.

  3. Irma is looking pretty fierce right now. But at this point it makes more sense for you to look at the butterflies and berries while you are making sure you have gas, batteries, and water. You always need gas, batteries, and water, so you may as well get it now. Take care.

    1. I know. Everything you said is true.
      Thank you.

  4. As far as trash bandits at night - I imagine them sitting around hobo fires, comparing their spoils, drinking grog, and playing banjos.

    Purple is my favorite. And green too.

    1. I think that city raccoons and country raccoons are probably very different creatures. But yeah, I can totally visualize that happening. Those little guys are clever as hell. Also? They seem to have opposable thumbs.

  5. Sometimes I think we all know way too much about what's going on in the world. I mean, that sounds weird coming from a former journalist, but I think the need to know has reached excessive levels. Sometimes it's best for our mental health to just pay attention to what we can see and feel and taste and hear.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.