The year 2020 was definitely a strange one… It started pretty much like the previous year but things changed in a hurry at the end of March: hand-washing, mask-wearing, social-distancing, isolating… The words were everywhere: pandemic, COVID, coronavirus… Then more words: frontline workers, healthcare workers, essential workers, heroes… Chaos. Summer provided somewhat of a reprieve. Then came a COVID-19 autumn with its lockdowns and escalating numbers. More chaos. I noticed that even the animals looked at us kinda strange, almost asking “Eh! What’s going on?“ Yes, it has been a strange year.
There’s a certain serenity and sense of security
Sitting in the front row of a lunar spectacle
And watching it unfold as it should be
A feeling so special and absolutely unforgettable
What if the moon got stuck, forever casting shadows
Stopping todays from becoming tomorrows
Thankfully we don’t have to worry about such a thing
We can all get up early and see the sun rising
It seems like I've been here before
I can't remember when
But I have this funny feeling
That we'll all be together again
No straight lines make up my life
And all my roads have bends
There's no clear-cut beginnings
And so far no dead-ends
Bighorn sheep on the Cove-to-Lake trail, La Quinta, CA
I couldn’t believe my eyes
This trail never disappoints
Look out! my hiking mate warns
Over there, a couple of bighorns
She raises a finger and points
Even looks like this one smiles
A bee with worn wings collects pollen on a wildflower in the desert
You emerge with brand new wings
But how will you learn to fly?
You’ll know how to use these things
And soon take to the sky
Fly you will for miles and miles, nature’s wonder
Stopping here and there on colourful flowers
To collect pollen, the sole mission of a forager
Your calling for maybe a thousand hours
Day after day, all of this flying
High and far, there is no denying
Your worn and tattered wings a sure sign
That soon you’ll reach the end of the line
With the ground still frozen, those juicy earthworms are a few weeks away yet. The robins had to dine on last fall’s choke cherries that never fell off the branch. Better than nothing I guess.
A week later, there were no choke cherries to be seen on any branch in the neighbourhood.
From every angle I am the same person it’s true
Intriguing from any perspective certainly
Pointless to try and hide things from you
You can see right through me
Seems all the great lyrics
Were scripted already
With perfect melody
Poets their own worst critics
Futile words hardly melodic or romantic What more hasn’t already been written or said
Fleeting spinning of grinding wheels inside my head
Briefly only before they call you lunatic
