Once again winter comes and makes everything cold. Hey I don’t mind, I’m from Michigan where winters are arduous affairs, long they endure and when they finally give way - joy. The snow melts and the flowers come up thru the ground and appear as little fairy lamps or something, little maidens maybe.
The cold isn’t very cold but it’s not warm. That’s noticeable. Stick your head out the door and feel the temperature. Get ready for the ride. Layer coat over shirt over t-shirt over bare skin. Try that. Wrap those pant sleeves in bright yellow bands around the ankle. Keeps my pants out of the chain ring and reminds motorists that hey there is a human there. Riding a bike.
The world turns, plus it’s tilted. That’s why it gets cold. If it wasn’t so tilted it would be more even. I mean the same temperature every day. Which would be boring ofcourse.
So celebrate the seasons, I guess is the point. Celebrate the changing. A wheel inside a wheel is how old Ezekiel put it. I always wondered what that meant.
My parents met in the cafeteria of the state hospital in Milan, Michigan. I don’t know what was on the menu that day but my mom was definitely hungry. So was my future dad. They were two young people looking for suitable mates and to start a family. This was the way of the Lord. I guess. I’m not sure if any of that happened.
But it might have. That’s the point, it might have. Or any one of a thousand different ways. The story is what’s important. Just say ‘Once upon a time, long long ago . . .’ Then your audience is advised that it’s a story and anything could happen. Say what comes to mind, maybe it’s true. Who knows?
Anyways we’ve got it all wrong. It’s not about all this stuff that we think. That’s why the kids aren’t into politics. They don’t see the point. All your politics has gotten us here is their attitude. Point taken. Well played. Where we are now is at the junction of sixteen or seventeen distinct and extremely well defined crisis. I didn’t actually count them but I probably could have.
If I was 22 I would join their band. My barista joke of the day was to roll up to coffee trailers (of which there were two on my journey) and say in an excited voice “Did you see them? Which way did they go?” And then before the barista had a chance to figure out what I was talking about. “The wild Comanches. I’m not trailing them, I just want to join their band.” Laugh. Roll off.
So the thing about the tilted earth is that we’re all tilted too. Gotta be. Some way or other. I mean we wouldn’t be human otherwise. We’d be wooden, we’d be droids. We’d be all the same. We wouldn’t survive.
Do you see what I mean? Mother Nature created a planetary biosphere here for life to prolivicate, proliferate I mean. It was an act of love. Don’t you feel it. It’s a great giant orchestra of creatures. We’re destroying it, of course, for our own greedy, selfish reasons. All the things we abominate in church. Sinful in the eyes of God. Greed and avarice and self-centeredness. We do it the rest of the week. Possibly take Saturday off to watch some TV football. Knowing full well that on Sunday we will be forgiven.
I just want to feel the love. Of Mother Nature. It’s all around us so why not? What’s better than that?
It’s Thanksgiving and all the stores are closed. Cafes too. Makes for easy riding down the empty boulevard. I can feel thankful for that. Mother Nature, segmented and separated lies all along the way. She is quiet and reposed. I respect that. If you were Mother Nature how would you feel? Confident? Humble yet powerful? Patient?
There’s a thought. I’ll rest with that on this cool Fall day.
music from somewhere around 2:23:06 thank you mose
mother nature