All Together Now

Not a tender patch of grass

I was walking between my house sitting house and home to feed my critters when a horse was suddenly in front of me in the road. There is a thick patch of young, tender grass that I gather along the way for my chickens; a handful is like some baby greens treat from the gourmet roadside store. The horse apparently thought the same thing, and nonchalantly walked up to me with a look on his face that spoke plainly. "Give that to me, please." So I did.

Turning into the yard, I started getting more grass, not as gourmet, a little older, a little rougher, but still chicken happiness making. Standing up, the horse was behind me, with the same look on his face. "Give that to me, please." Not demanding, just...expectant. I gave him that grass as well. He stood there chewing and I went on with my chores.

Nothing interesting here

Cat fed. Chickens fed (there was plenty of grass behind the shack to give them, along with their feed...happy chickens lay more eggs, yes?). I was back inside, doing some minor chores when the horse came around to the front door. He stopped and then moved along into the yard. He stopped again.

Hmmm.

Then he went and stood for at least 3 or 4 minutes in front of the chicken coop door. They didn't open the door. He didn't open the door. He just turned around and walked out of the yard. I don't know what they get up to when I'm not around. I don't think I'm supposed to know.

Those chickens didn't share with me.

Watering the gardens almost always brings Spike around for a visit. Over the years, I know it cannot possibly be the same bird, but it always acts the same. Flit zoom bathe on a fat wet leaf, flit, then a rest in the same branches. Posing and preening, Spike is Spike. Always.

Heading to town, there is a new guy in the hood. The sign was barely legible and said something like Jango. I thought it could say, Aren't you glad we don't have to dress this way here?

Make up your own caption

And then it was back up the hill. But first, there was this one.

While many of us are travelers and revel in seeing the wonders of this amazing planet, I also think about some of the older people here on Culebra, who have lived in this beautiful small place all of their lives, seeing what there is to see on the land and in the waters. I think Lao Tzu had something very wise in mind when he penned this (thank you, Flying Tortoise, for the reminder!):

Poem Eighty

No Place to Visit or The Diminished Returns ~

Better to keep your country small
Your people few
Your devices simple
And even those for infrequent use.

Let people measure life
By the meaning of death
And not go out of their way
To visit far off places.
With nowhere to travel
And little care for the display,
Great ships, fine carriages
And shining weapon become
Mere relics of the past.

Let people recover
The simple life:
Reckoning by knotted cords,
Delighting in a basic meal,
Pleased with humble attire.
Happy in their homes 
Taking pleasure in their rustic ways.

So content are they
That in nearby towns
So close, the sound of dogs and roosters
Forms one chorus--
Folks grown grey with age
May pass away never having strayed
Beyond their village.

Lao Tzu.   

Have a (un)technological Thursday. Do something therapeutic.