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Even if you were ignorant about religion, you'd know something was up, today. No traffic, anywhere. Most of the restaurants, closed. Clots of cars constricting tiny driveways. The big heads of little kids bent in angled determination, chubby legs pistoning across frontyards on the quest for colorful things. You've got to admire that kind of spirit. I could/should learn from that. Waking up to gospel music was the biggest effort I made in recognizing the holiday. I've not given up the faith for powers and influences bigger than myself, but I have dismissed the battle of the Chosen Few... where everything's cool as long as you follow the right program. Which I don't see. Sir William the Sly called before the first cup of coffee was done, wanting to know if I'd be up for a brief walk in the woods to flag off some of the bigger trees we'll have to cut to open the right-of-way. A big step in making a driveable lane. I agreed, not knowing that I'd also be agreeing to a beer before breakfast. So, it's to be this, again, I thought. And so it was. After straightening up with coffee and a donut, the afternoon blurred by from behind the wheel. Miss Jane was cranky, early on, which is her way of telling me that she wanted a change of scene. And many there was. Criss-crossing the back roads, where there are more churches than houses. Past the lurching form of a slightly worse-for-wear biker chick trying to flag down rides in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the road. Following the paths of murky green rivers coiling their way alongside mine. And back again. Straight back to the refrigerator. Numbed by the television and artificial inspiration. Burning inside. Hungry for colorful things. |
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