DOING NOTHING

Doing nothing as I sit in the morning, small animals arrive. They watch, coming up close sometimes to see just what's going on. Lady Hummingbird (not her mate with the flashy feathers) is usually first. I must admit my preference for her, she is so demure.

Yesterday, while I was looking with unfocused eyes at nothing in particular, she surprised me. The mini-helicopter sound was loud and quite near. And – this will set religious air raid sirens going – when I looked up there she was, two or three inches away from that place on my forehead sometimes called the Third Eye . . .

My theory begins with this indisputable difference between us and other animals – that we are civilized. We proudly claim this makes us superior. We have laws, lawyers and enforcers. What do squirrels or hummingbirds know of civilization? We do, however, experience nonverbal communication. And telepathy – crank the sirens up!

This observation trespasses scientific and sacred territory. It flies in the face of civilized beliefs. And yes – that was a pun – daring, eh what?

Dancing shadows fall upon the concrete patio. Leaves from a branch are silhouettes. The scan of my eye is brought to a halt by a solid black berry. Which suddenly flies up and away.

Are flies just pestiferous? Or might they be from another dimension. Or maybe not so metaphysical after all, having a sense of humor unslurred with the drool of a pun.

The doves are in the feeder getting fat. The black squirrel, who likes to yell while I sit, has not arrived. Yet. And how does this compare with the Armageddon bunkers beneath Moscow? Surely a small white butterfly cannot claim equal importance. As these words appear on the clipboard, our Lady of the sugar feeder hovers down like a Calfire helicopter, last seen over the explosive blaze in Northern California last night on the news, after scenes of flooding in the east, highways and bridges washed away.

One of the doves perched on the fence looks straight at me and coos.

Put this way, it becomes surreal. And won't help if you're locked out of your house, lost the keys, or out of your tent, your place under the overpass, down by the creek, or sitting in your car waiting for a tow, or where ever that delusion of peace evaporated.

Reality for ordinary bike lane people is becoming unhinged. Don't forget the frequent fliers and political clowns. Fort Knox even is rattled, though gold is surely immune to any thermonuclear Electro Magnetic Pulse, which will definitely nuke your hand held device. The fiction of digital immortality meets its match.

Here in Santa Clara it is such a lovely morning. The birds edge closer to my chair. Time for a cup of green tea, longevity tea, no sugar. In a moment we'll get back to the prevention of cell phone death and immortality.

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Well – immortality seems to have escaped out the back gate. That's how it goes as one gets older. The beauty is: I just don't care. Green tea is good!