Waiting for the Fire
The fire came six years in, gobbling trees and brush; cooking stones unto explosion. We sat in a loaned house downhill for almost three weeks not knowing day to day if our place still stood. In the lands still under construction, fire, water and wind have a free hand, like the abrasive on a buffing wheel to remove varnish from a wooden floor. To actually live in nature is to sense fully how far we've fallen in our quest for a bit of benison.
The blessing being sought is to live in the mythic nature that our ancestors fought to escape. A land ruled by tooth and claw, on a clock of seasons. One comes to perceive nature as a sort of drunken bed mate: farting and snoring with various stinks, stealing the covers. To learn nature has not the least appreciation of your deep thoughts and western aspirations. You can visit for awhile, but someone is sure to show up and upset your balance.
With no dog-catchers or cops around, one has to stay alert for rabid skunks, feral dog packs, the ubiquitous adder and two-legged opportunists. Become acquainted with killing. You also have to keep the humming bird feeders filled to keep the tiny things swarming, feeding up for their trip South, around the time the Deer dies. Seasons move in a way clocks don't, as there's some slack built in to allow for surprises. Other than the 'phone I haven't had an alarm clock in years. Something's sure to wake me up if something's really happening.
These groups that organize stuff tighten their grip out of habit, like a Coyote driving its fangs through a Rabbit's skull. I can't help mistrusting them with their smart-meters and concern for my soul and welfare. They won't spray for mosquitoes carrying avian viruses, but build causeways for leaping meadow mice to safely cross roadways. Where does one have to go to escape it, the Moon?
In fact, there is no escape from mankind barring disasters with mass die-off. The hard trick to that one is not dying along with the rest. To be honest, a depopulated world needs vital younger folks and doesn't need codgers, no matter their arcane knowledge. That, sadly, is just a worn novelist's device.
No matter where you might land in a country of 330,000,000+, the chances are that a swarm of others have had the same idea, and are busy turning it into an industry; the one you'll have to deal with who'll steal your data, blow your location and track your ways. In your hide-out.
Good luck in your foxhole. Do watches and practice X ten. Notice.
The Antrim family were first into this canyon, 1905, and have run it as a ranch since. Their old place is at the back. Back where the road ends. Bob is dead and Dorthy is in the old folks home down in town. Someone noticed folks hanging around and called the Sheriff. The house had been robbed of some firearms and tools, and meth had been cooked in Bob's shop. Nature hates a vacuum, and turn your back if you crave challenge.
A late model BMW 7 Series sports sedan with no plates was found abandoned high-centered on a mound of dirt, a dozen feet off the road to the right. Four paws in the air. Front end destroyed, an expensive little drug dealer car shed like a skin flake on a mountain road. I guess these items are write-offs in the drug trade these days. The automotive equivalent of a sneaker. If I had ever twigged to how indescribably weak people are I would have become a drug mogul. I thought weakness was unique to me. See? Self absorbed. Coulda' been a contender.
Meanwhile, while it lives, keep a sentry up. Even if nothing that concerns you comes, other things that bear no malice do, and their ways are lovely.
Riley
September 5, 2018
With no dog-catchers or cops around, one has to stay alert for rabid skunks, feral dog packs, the ubiquitous adder and two-legged opportunists. Become acquainted with killing. You also have to keep the humming bird feeders filled to keep the tiny things swarming, feeding up for their trip South, around the time the Deer dies. Seasons move in a way clocks don't, as there's some slack built in to allow for surprises. Other than the 'phone I haven't had an alarm clock in years. Something's sure to wake me up if something's really happening.
These groups that organize stuff tighten their grip out of habit, like a Coyote driving its fangs through a Rabbit's skull. I can't help mistrusting them with their smart-meters and concern for my soul and welfare. They won't spray for mosquitoes carrying avian viruses, but build causeways for leaping meadow mice to safely cross roadways. Where does one have to go to escape it, the Moon?
In fact, there is no escape from mankind barring disasters with mass die-off. The hard trick to that one is not dying along with the rest. To be honest, a depopulated world needs vital younger folks and doesn't need codgers, no matter their arcane knowledge. That, sadly, is just a worn novelist's device.
No matter where you might land in a country of 330,000,000+, the chances are that a swarm of others have had the same idea, and are busy turning it into an industry; the one you'll have to deal with who'll steal your data, blow your location and track your ways. In your hide-out.
Good luck in your foxhole. Do watches and practice X ten. Notice.
The Antrim family were first into this canyon, 1905, and have run it as a ranch since. Their old place is at the back. Back where the road ends. Bob is dead and Dorthy is in the old folks home down in town. Someone noticed folks hanging around and called the Sheriff. The house had been robbed of some firearms and tools, and meth had been cooked in Bob's shop. Nature hates a vacuum, and turn your back if you crave challenge.
A late model BMW 7 Series sports sedan with no plates was found abandoned high-centered on a mound of dirt, a dozen feet off the road to the right. Four paws in the air. Front end destroyed, an expensive little drug dealer car shed like a skin flake on a mountain road. I guess these items are write-offs in the drug trade these days. The automotive equivalent of a sneaker. If I had ever twigged to how indescribably weak people are I would have become a drug mogul. I thought weakness was unique to me. See? Self absorbed. Coulda' been a contender.
Meanwhile, while it lives, keep a sentry up. Even if nothing that concerns you comes, other things that bear no malice do, and their ways are lovely.
Riley
September 5, 2018
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