Posts Tagged ‘creative writing’
Olympic Influence
The 2020 Olympic summer games are over but after having watched daily competitions for over two weeks, the residual influence is strong. Yesterday afternoon, I was cutting the grass beneath our fenceline using the power trimmer. Beneath ear-muff hearing protection that also has a metal mesh face shield, my world gets reduced to the ground immediately in front of me and little else.
While trimming away, there was a moment where I thought I might have heard an uncharacteristic sound. I took a quick glance over my shoulder to see if there was anyone in sight and was immediately reminded of Olympic marathoners doing the same turn of their heads as they tried to check the competition behind them.
In the split second of feeling a connection to the competing Olympic runners, I had a thought that power trimming could become one of the new sports they add in the future.
There could be categories separating light trimming around features in a front yard –similar to short distance races– and thick field grass trimming under a fence –similar to running a marathon.
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Performance can be timed or judged, or probably both.
Points taken off if you nick the fence post or leave uncut tufts around them. That would be like when divers make a splash as they enter the water.
Why stop with just power trimming? All the property management chores could become Olympic competitions. Kicking manure piles in the field can be rather sporting. Changing engine oil in a lawn tractor. Sharpening a chainsaw blade. Repairing a busted fence. Oh, pounding down frost-heaved fence posts would be a good one.
Might as well expand the focus to include a competition of commuting an hour to a day job. Fastest time without speeding more than 9MPH over posted speed limits takes the gold. Must be accident-free and can receive bonus points if no other drivers are made angry throughout the entire drive.
I’m sure televised broadcasts of the competitions would inspire kids to want to become farm chore professionals when they grow up.
I wish I could take this thought exercise of Olympic comparison all the way to the part where the hard work only lasts for two weeks and then there is a great big party with fireworks and drone-shaped patterns in the sky.
Lots of laughter and selfies, maybe a few hugs from strangers.
It’s a nice distraction from reality. My reality early yesterday morning involved a certain cat who apparently missed me over the weekend. Pequenita made a point of walking up my body to head-butt my face and knead my chest starting at 3:30 a.m. and repeated the exercise again at 4:30, 5:00, 5:30, & 6:00.
I foiled her annoying shenanigans this morning by getting out of bed at 4:30 to do my planking and stretching routine before work.
Come to think of it, maybe Pequenita just forgot that I now work from home on Mondays and she thought I needed to get up that early.
She probably thinks she’s in some cat Olympics, competing in the “Manage Your Human” event.
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Alive
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morning
at the lake
quiet
filtered sunlight
leaves
green
trees
woods
calm
energy
peace
tranquility
love
family
awaken
heartbeat
spark
breakfast
stories
eventually
opportunity
arrives
life
comes
alive
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Resonance
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I was trying to find an idea somewhere
looking under the stacks of accumulated papers
among the shoes on the floor in the closet
mixed among the randomly sorted silverware in the drawer
might as well look in the junk drawer, too, while I was at it
in the basement room I otherwise never visit
hidden in plain sight in the kitchen refrigerator upstairs
on the list of things we always intend to do someday
tucked in one of the many books I never get around to finishing
lost in the collection of well-used dog toys that no longer excite
buried in the saved emails from more than a decade back
deep in a lifetime of fading memories
or a line of some lyrics from every single song
from the shapes and colors of each different day’s clouds
in the sounds out the window of so many birds and frogs
Eeeee eeee Eee EEE eee eee eeep
but the last p is silent
just a closing of the lips without escaping any air
in the blades of green grass that invisibly grow so dang fast
in the absence of chickens and the happiness they once cast
I looked toward the horses finding too much there to grasp
on the overflowing shelves of junk in the shop and adjacent garage
along the trails through our woods and the paths around our fields
in the silence when I notice it and pause for a moment just to hear
an idea that feels a little different than the ones already formed
wrapped up in the whacky climate calamity continually playing out
publicly flaunted prejudices propagating like a raging contagion
pernicious social networks emanating a sickly stench
mindless rampant greed with its selfish intent
all battling the effervescent aromas spring hope brings once again
the voluntary charity bursting forth from entrepreneurial brilliant minds
the love most people are conveying from the goodness of their hearts
the science on display in helicopters flying around on Mars
an idea so much bigger than some guy’s stupid big lie
one that could actually make universal sense
except it’s obviously deeper than mere words can explain
communicating clearly and simply to each separate person’s mind
through fields of heart energy and the wisdom living in our guts
an idea that is more like a sound
one our instincts recognize
one we together can amplify
one that is love in resonance
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May
don’t thank me it was bound to happen despite conflicting interests everyone’s got an alibi the cat says she was sleeping behind the pillows on the bed beneath the spread the dog is playing dumb denying any knowledge which forensics verified the mice are laying low who knows where they all go there’s nothing left but crumbs the eggs are all intact no sign of any cracks deliveries haven’t stopped as life just races along don’t bother calling cops April has run out of days and tomorrow turns to May
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Relative Something 