| The summer of Thoreau..... |
| Thoreau would say I've been becoming gourd-like. I must douse myself in thoughts to keep my rind from drying out. OH, the joy of remoistening what has become parched! |
| Nature seems to have a method of life attracting life. I have sat here but five minutes and already flies and many ants have visited me. Damselflies have drifted by to inspect me as well. Good thing the mosquitoes have yet to respond to this new hospitality of interest I provide. |
| That big sign across the river. That foamy pollution blanketing the water. That beer can in the mud by the fallen tree upon where I sit. The motorcycle and car combustion noises roaring with the cicadas. It makes the nature here seem wrong -- like I don't beling here. Like I and one of the pollutatnts, that may be the ants are swarming to bother me until I leave. Why can't I shed this evil outfit of man and just be human: be a part of the polluted water instead of the scum covering it? For that is what I feel: after all, it is my species that has created the pollutions. We deserve nature's turning her back on us. |
| A neon blue crane fly just landed on my knee! I wish our brains could put such proportional energy to our sight. Maybe then we could see our own faults and flitter about with the crane fly to fix them. |
| I must have been in similitude with some of Thoreau's writings during his more crazed years here: A leaf falling just distracted me ... It seems to be growing cotton along it's veins on its underside. How strange -- they aren't eggs. Maybe a fungus. If it is a disease from this wretchedly-taken-care-of rivier I will be furious. Such an innocent leaf: falling with a disease. WE are compassionate about a person falling with a disease. Why not plants, too? |
| I mustn't overstay this log's hospitality, for it will be sweter if I don't try to choke all the inspiration out of it in one setting. I will walk back humming and wear a smile I have long since shown. |
| It's strange reading over these again becuase I really do sound like Thoreau...They have all the random location information that no one would care about expect me. It's like a mix of reporting documentation and philosphy with a blunt explanation of nature and the detached emotions provoked by it. And yet, I've captured it. |
| Tonight I went on another of my random bike expeditions and perchanced to pass an Anglican Church on 4th Avenue. Feeling called to this religious base, I entered the premises hoping the building would be open so I could pray in its chapel. It was closed as assumed, so I sat on a pillar by the stairs and meditated, smelling the cleansing green of the various flowers, vines, and bushes surrounding the church. A nice sanctuary for me to realize I need to attend a mass again so I don't become what Thoreau would call a gourd. |
| Today I sat on the boat, rocking as if the lake were held in God's hands as he was ever-so-slowly shuffling along as if to take the greatest care to no disturb what he held. And the spurts of water hit my skin amidst the sun like being enveloped in the warm, moist breath of Mother Nature originating from God's lungs. |
| Oh, the beauty that comes from studying nature with Mother Nature herself instead of woth a book -- for a friendship forms that will never be destroyed by storms; only highlighted by them! |