A hummingbird flits at the feeder. Unaware that the rains of fall have come. The coolness of day changes green to orange red. Falling to earth like a shredded patchwork quilt. The flowers are few and nectar is rare, but those flying dynamos carry on. Such persistence. Such dedication to a singular effort.
The cats nuzzled together. Keeping warm through their union. The hummingbird persists. The cats unaware and uncaring of their industrious friend’s progress. They’ve had their fill. First eating. Then cleaning. Then sleep.
And here I sit. Friday mid-afternoon. The couch. My nest. Sleepless. How I wish I could be as industrious and relentless as that hummingbird. Or as unaware as said cats. But here I sit braced from pain. The pain of a wounded knee. It’s no allusion. No intimation. Just fact dressed in a black supportive shroud.
I was walking through the park one day. Well okay. Not so much a park, as my living room. And it was Continue Reading > > >
This is a follow-up to the post: 
This is my place to blow off a little steam. The place to say what I need and keep others current. Thanks for stopping by.
