 Buck in yard September 10, 2020 |  Acorns are early this year. |
| Patterns Broken September rolls around again, Brings hope of November rain. Seasons cycle through the year, Warm winds signal Fall is here. Though we sigh of summer gone by, Love we thought would never die, Warm days under the hot sun, Joy-filled with vacation fun. Welcome Autumn, patterns so well-known, Multicolored leaves off trees wind-blown, Ripe pears, acorns dropping to the ground, Squirrels, deer and turkeys gathering ‘round. Patterns of the season, same as every year, Patterns to us so familiar and dear. And yet, not the same A new game. Lake is low, Ill winds blow. Fires blaze, For days and days. Smoky breeze Wildlife flees. Rampant virus Runs among us. Pattern is torn We are worn. All awry, And we cry. But, remember, humans always cope, And they never, ever quite lose hope. They find space to play and sing and dance In the most direst of circumstance. This long year will run its course, This vile virus lose its force, Patterns dear for which we yearn They will in due course return. But not the same game as before, A new and different pattern is in store. And it will neither be better nor worse, But just life’s river on a new course. And we will adjust, Because we must.  September 9, 2020 The Day the Sun Didn’t Rise Awakened. Dark. Stayed in bed. Later, still dark. Checked the clock: Past sunrise. Looked out window: Dark red sky. Where was the sun? Fires overnight, Sent smoke our way. Apocalyptic Everyone said. But we went on As usual, Drinking our coffee, Eating a croissant, Reading the paper, Chatting ….. Resilience. -MW  Tam, Lassen, Shasta, Rosie Jine 28, 2020 cap by Lurker We turn to the ospreys For perspective, Comforted by their seasonal patterns: Arrive, fix up nest, mate Lay eggs, raise chicks, migrate. The same every year. There are glitches: Unseasonal storm, chick dies Unsuccessful fledge. But they take it all in stride, Returning always to the pattern, Life’s prescription. They accept life Without complaint. -MW | Belief Belief of one sort or another is a primal need, It provides solace, certainty, security and hope. Belief once found its major refuge in religion, In time belief abandoned aging religion for science, And science will remain its domicile for a while. Belief found fertile ground in religion and then in science. When host again is spent, where will belief next find its shelter? A Pious Hope Reality Has today for far too many Become a tedious torturous experience, A source of pain, fear and boredom, A place from which escape is necessary. Virtual Reality Has become our Shangri-La, The gift of our Electronics Age, A source of delight and novel diversion A place that's sedating us to death. Our reality is a trying ordeal, Our faux reality's a mortal intoxicant, Neither's a fit habitat for humans And both must yield to a better reality. Our ruthlessly competitive thing-centered world And our world of analgesic distraction Must give way to sanity and humanity, To a community of thoughtful brothers and sisters, Of humans content and at peace with one another, Where want is met and life's a joyful adventure. A pious hope, perhaps--but hope it is! An Enigmatic Species We think too little, Love too little, Give too little, And talk too much. We work too much, Waste too much, Protest too much And know too little. We're ever restless Hopelessly confused, Rarely content And quickly bored. We're an enigma, Wondrously flawed, Up to the best And given to the worst. Leaves we are, Blown by the wind, Burned by the sun And lost in the night. -JM Epigrams by JM Small problems with small solutions Obviate big problems with no solutions. Questions are no less informative than answers. Expectations are our doing and our undoing. Patterns are both our salvation and our damnation.  Píccola says: When hot, I seek shade. When tired, I find a bed. When worried or in need, I find my people. When they're gone, I go into my cave. I do not worry. And when they return, I am so happy. Autumn from Vivaldi's Four Seasons. Calming classical music for a troubled season. |