On this recent walk at the church of the glassy river, the birds were singing. Singing loudly. Like really loudly. I am not sure what was causing this escalation in volume. Maybe it was something in me? Maybe it was a bird rally of some sort? Maybe the birds are sick of the authoritarian regime that is attempting to stamp out democracy? Who can say. Just raise your hand if you think the take-down of Senator Alex Padilla was reprehensible and we will be here together. Doing what we can.
There were puffs of cottony fluff floating down all around from the cottonwood trees. It was super cool, like a slow motion video of snow superimposed on a normal time video of everything else. Close your eyes, I feel certain it will make sense to you.
I came upon a man man who told me I walked faster than he could run, and we both agreed to knock on wood and be grateful that TODAY we were suffering from no ailments/injuries that were keeping us from walking.
There was some chalk writing on the sidewalk about people who have never known the joy of dancing in the rain. I swear I could smell rain as I read it.
These blooming cone flowers were icing on the cake.
I was already pretty blissed out by the time I saw them. The good thing is I don't have a lid that automatically snaps shut after seeing so much good stuff. My storage for beauty in the world is limitless. Which is one of my super-powers.
At the very beginning of this particular walk I always cross these railroad tracks. There is also a set of tracks on the other side of the river providing me with the sounds that always induce thoughts of train travel.
When am I going to get my act together and buy a ticket on the Southwest Chief to Santa Fe and tell Dottie to meet me there for an adventure? Sometimes if I announce intentions somewhere it makes me buckle down and do it. You can be sure I will keep you posted. In the meantime, I am just here, not letting the jackassery take me down completely.