It is just the way it is in my land
In each of our simple and brief time on this blue marble we are exposed to so much to comprehend. Do we understand it all, obviously not? We, the few and powerless, keep asking questions.
Now with that heavy thought by, I wander into another day in just another life. Nothing special. The usual pattern for the most part. Get up, look at the computer, go back to sleep, dream the dream of misunderstanding, wake up, wash away the darkness with instant grains of something called coffee, and check the weather, for the weather rules the day.
Storm is a coming, or so they say, so the pattern of life adjusts to the weather. Wash the dishes from last night? Maybe later. Wear the same clothing you wore the previous day and maybe the day before? There is certainty in consistency.
The usual routine to open doors and close locks and gather ponies and observe the day and of course welcome my guest the owl. As with many creatures that make this plot of land their home, he looks after the yard for me.
When it rains, they find shelter or put up their umbrellas. When the sunshine’s, they sing and dance and entertain. Whatever food that can be provided is on a regular schedule and the pattern remains the same every day.
So tonight is like a recurrence of any other dark wintery night. Restricted within four walls with some connection to the world through electronic mystery and softened by alcohol.
The thoughts that accrue in a wondrous space may seem bazaar or even gonzo to some, but it is a daily occurrence to reality. A wonder adjustment to daily realization, perhaps but life is funny that way.
Listening to the English group “Yes” on their first three albums and thinking this was the music that both my wife and I agreed on is somewhat amazing. I liked it for the swirly guitar sound and I think she got more out of it than that.
So many and many of year later I listen to the CDs and enjoy the happiness we both shared at separate times.
I wish I had played in that band.