Over the Line?

Dear Maria,

Had every intention of writing as we were on the cusp of November, but now we are post-cusp. Two months left for this calendar year? The notion that it will be 2016, I find impossible. I suppose, should I be around to see it so, 2020 will leave me afloat in a pool of incredulity. Should, that is, the incredulous be a liquid state of mind.

Thanks for asking about the smaller birds that are typically about but have been lately absent. Early in the week, a warbler made a brief landing before a sparrow chased it away. Then three house finches mugged the sparrow, which sent him over to a limb not far from the birdhouse. Yep, the bluebirds have set up housekeeping again, and of the course the male came soaring out to send the sparrow even deeper into the local wilderness. Territorial imperative or something. I think the topic has been in the news some.

In the news—if or when the Pacific coast should just crumble into the ocean and the economies of those states be utterly devastated, I wonder about the refugees streaming eastward into Arizona and Nevada and Idaho, maybe by the millions. Then, FEMA and the Red Cross and Doctors without Borders et al and at what point can they vote in an election and—well, unprecedented. There won’t be jobs for most of them. Of that reality, I am sure. Well, maybe, with reconstruction work.

Would we extend state borders westward to the new primary dune line and go with 47?

I also imagine—sorry—someone smoking pot at the Four Corners spot, standing in Colorado and leaning out over Utah or Arizona or New Mexico’s air space. Did you know Maricopa County is the 4^th largest in the US population-wise? Legalized pot, then not, and then Arizona and then Maricopa and then Sheriff Arpaio. Dots, to be connected.

You know, there is nothing like an adult cardinal showing up at the feeder and bullying all the other birds away from the food. As soon as he flies off—they’re back. What voice did you just hear?

Oh, yes, I can still be somber and serious and solemn, too. A couple of friends have said to me privately that I am funnier face to face than on Facebook. About that, IDK. Seems the venue sparks little bantering, or I am not well-equipped for verbal ping pong. Besides, who has time for that sort of thing with texting and downloading and uploading and tweeting? 

Okay, I do.

Be that as it may, earlier sunrises, earlier sunsets, and November, indeed. Should lunch be in the offing when next you are around, I will have at least 5 minutes of new material.

Until then, be well. srk