At times I need to understand life in the most simplistic form. Almost looking for the lowest common denominator that speaks to me in a way that even a child should understand. I don’t mean to say that it takes big letters and small syllables for me to get life but when it gets hard, when it get confusing and when hurts so bad you just want to crawl under the kitchen sink and close the doors, I try to break it down; sometimes in an anthropomorphic way.
I run. I am not a strong runner or fast runner. I don’t set goals or count my carbs for the ultimate distance. I run because it takes what I feel on the inside and makes it tangible. If the mood is good, the run is free and light. If there is conflict, the run is tough and drudging with the mind lost in thought. But I will never stop motion. Lately there have been a lot of “thinking” runs.
Yesterday I put on my running shoes and headed out the door to battle the trail and clear my mind. I reassess my choices made and people I choose to be around. And then out of nowhere I thought of something that made me stop. Not only did I stop but I sat. I sat, put my hand on my chin and closed my eyes.
I thought of a birdbath. You know, the ones made of concrete with a bird molded to the side to lure others to drink. Then I imagined this little swallow that was circling overhead trying to decide if the bath was safe to drink out of. Then he noticed there was a bird already there so it must be okay. He landed on the opposite side from the statue and stared across, finding comfort in it. He inched his way around until he was next to it. Since it didn’t fly off he took this as a sign of acceptance.
The swallow rubbed against it but there was no warmth. The conversations were one sided. His offers of seeds and worms were left untouched and even the nest built beside the concrete bird was left unshared. But the swallow needed companionship so he looked past these indifference’s and stayed put.
Through the scariest nights, the stormiest days and the coldest snow winds, the swallow stayed next to the bird. He hung on to the fact that because the bird had not flown off, the emptiness was tolerable because after all, 1% is always better than zero. But soon that 1% became became less of a comfort and more of a question.
And then the reality of the situation hit the swallow. He saw that there was really nothing there at all and his bird was only an extension of the bath ledge he was sitting on. The real gravity was the fact that through the scariest nights, the stormiest days and the coldest winds he was really…just alone. So he flew off, gaining nothing and leaving nothing.
I suppose many would say that the swallow was just stupid for not seeing that the bird was concrete. Not me. I believe that time and situation control many of our actions and though they may not make sense to many, they make sense to us. There is something to be said for knowing when it’s time.
“Tis the season to be jolly…”
*cough cough*
“Falla la la la la la la laaa”
“Last boarding call for Delta flight 663…”
“This couch will totally fit down these stairs. Just let me finish this last sip of wonderful PBR.”
“You’re good, you’re good, you’re good…”
“Oh dude, I am so, so sorry. Let’s have another beer and drag the fridge down here.”
Well, they almost got me back for that little accident by packing all the knives in a box. Almost got me.
Cracker please!
This is actually from my work phone. Didn’t notice it had a flash until I was trying to learn the features.
I took the long way to work this morning and drove around the scenic part of my mountain. That’s right, it’s my mountain now. No one else is aware that they are living on Mt. Will but they are. Anyway, I nearly drove off the side when I passed this sign. Why would you advertise something for free and insult it? Curiosity is killing me and if I wasn’t absolutely positive that these people would kill and eat me in the name of Zworn the Overlord, I would bite. I’m really thinking of submitting this to Failblog.org.
I went for a loooooong hike the other day and just when I thought I was far from the reaches of humanity, I found this. Are you serious? There is no way for me to wrap my head around seeing a graffiti-ed rock miles away from any home or road. And Bart Simpson? So that means the artist had to hike at least 5 miles into the woods with spray paint. What a rebel. But then again it could be a Shawshank like clue to buried money. “Follow due north until you get to Bart Simpson. He’ll tell you what to do from there.” 
I will admit that living in the Northwest during the Spring time is beautiful. It’s too bad my photography skills aren’t worthy enough to do it justice. This is West Glacier in Montana and I am still blown away that I can say, “I’m going to Montana for the day”. Or Canada for that matter! Here are some shots I took.
Meh, you get the gist. It was kind of funny but 90% of the park is still under many feet of snow. In order to get any hiking trails you have to walk on a paved road for almost 3 miles with dense forest on either side. It’s hard to explain but it had a real sense of purgatory. No scenery and a straight road. I have to admit it was very eerie after about a mile with no sounds, no people and only trees, road and sky in any direction. Perfect time for a bear.
Well I thought it was funny.
“Dag-Nabbit!”
“Dag-Nabbit!”
“Dag-Nabbit!”
“Dag-Nabbit!”
“Dag-Fuckin’-Nabbit!”
Almost kept a puppy! I was driving to the hospital a few weeks ago and this little guy ran out in front of me. I stopped, got out, fully expecting him to run away, and tied to see if I could read his tag. Instead of timid little guy he jumped straight into my arms. Of course he didn’t have a tag so I was forced to knock on all the neighboring houses looking for the possible owners. No luck so I put him in the car and took off to attend a course that I was already ten minutes late for.
I came real close to buying the big box condo last Friday during a structure fire. Apparently, when I was on a single hose line a high voltage wire snapped from the heat of the fire and landed on the ground next to me causing a huge electrical arch that chard the ground around me, fried the hose and created a big blue light over top of me. I was oblivious to this until I heard screaming over my radio from the incident commander that I was on a live wire and to drop the hose. I did so and was stuck in one spot until the electric company could come out and turn off the electricity. Since then I have been a luck charm for the company and other stations. But I still have the creeps since everyone including the electrician kept repeating that there is no reason that I should have survived that. So technically, I shouldn’t be here writing you.
The fire departments have been consolidating and that means my hours have been cut pretty dramatically. So, I have been forced to dust off the ol’ resume’ and now I find myself back in corporate America until they finish the rezoning of the fire agencies. It’s cool I guess. I work as a consultant for a company that streamlines large businesses as far as their digital postage, copy, office supply and equipment. The first day on the job everyone called me Jim Halpurt. Great.
Last week it was 68 and beautiful. For the first time I was able to leave the confines of the shack that had been buried in snow to cruise the logging trails on a warm afternoon run. It was glorious! I had not felt this good in months and to see the snow gone and the lake completely free of ice made me want to…to…do everything! I wanted swim, no, run a marathon or ride bikes or play guitar by a campfire. Shit, there isn’t enough time. And there wasn’t. Today I got up and looked out my window to see this. Shit I did.
In defiance, I went running anyway. In shorts and a t-shirt none the less. I know it looks pretty but it’s almost May and I need this crap to go. Please mother nature. Take pity on this boy from the south east. He knows not what he’s done.
Casserole of Disaster 