It's raining again. It's rained a lot recently. Those among the tribe marked by fur or feather, ruffle themselves, and wait under the eaves. We with less of either than any wait as well. Those things green are inspired, and make their way forth in the manner they do so. Along the path which I ride to work for the days of the week in which I must, it has darkened and filled with forest green in several breaks since the first thin light yellow greens of the spring appeared. It is a path in the strictest sense - a bike path. Alongside it runs a creek generally quiet and behaved, but it these days of constant rain, noisey and rushed. In a turn of effect when the water is fastest and highest it runs quietest of all. With a viscous rolling over the rocks and ledges of its bed down to the bottoming out in the broad sandy stretch below the Adelphi mill. It has a point, it reaches sometimes when it runs fast but not high, the water will break backwards on itself over these rocky obstructions in the manner of surf on a shore. Birds with the appearance of cardinals, but as if dusted with brown flour will flash with a fluid movement over it into the sunlight and back among the trees.
Out of all the rising and expanding nature of this wet season I found there were two plants that I remembered particularly. There was a tornado that came through this area about two years, it left a considerable destruction of trees behind after it was gone. The year was heading into the fall when this happened so the full nature of its toll was not realized until the following spring. Then one could see in a wide path no green, and no life. By the end of that summer vines and seedlings crawled and came up into those spaces and man embarrassed by this low ranked initiative, took chainsaws to the broken and stripped pillars left behind and thought of things to build in their place. Here along a road I see on the days I take the bus there is a tree I have watched. Waiting for the day it would be left only a smooth cut stump with a small spillage of sawdust on the ground by it. But this spring, from its shorn off top, it put out a shoot and then another, looking for a matter of weeks like a telephone pole come to life. Gradually it settled into an appearance of a charmed palm tree. I do not think anyone will come to cut it down now.
By a sidewalk by where I work, a spot left dark by the larger shrubbery planted. In a corner to easily cut by foot traffic. A weed has come up. I do not know what kind of weed, My sister looking at a picture of it thinks it is a scottish thistle. I know it only by its insistent existence, forcing its way up through this dead trodden hard pan soil. It looks like a tall angry dandelion, without even the bright yellow head, and cotton puff seedlings of a dandelion which endears it to children. This is long and lobed, irregular in all aspects and directions, its leaves, its stem, thick and leathery presenting spikes at every turn and surface. In a week it had put up three branching layers of such, arrayed against plant and animal alike, and towards the sun. All in attempt to fulfill its destiny to own that spot. Nature is its revealed aspects. what does this reveal? A certain aggression - even an attitude of aggression. This was still a corner of the human world. Physical plant/Groundskeeping
came through and uprooted it. I admit to missing it, I admired it even as I feared it and what it represented: chaotic clawing cyclical nature. Everything we construct, we construct against this. That is our nature. At the same time everything our nature is or pretends to is dependent on what came before. The materiality we extract from nature and fashion into our objects and energy. It is all dependent on the high state of material order things on this earth exist at. No dust and gas of interstellar space here. Our chaos is a chaos of systems. Here we have the immeasurable example of life in a perfection of being in an ornery weed.
11:09:09 PM comment [];
Well the mysterious Chilean sea blob turns out to be rotting dead whale. Its still worth reading the CNN article for the description of what happens to a whale when it dies in the open ocean.
._._. pb _._
In a turn of effect when the water is fastest and highest it runs quietest of all. With a viscous rolling over the rocks and ledges of its bed down to the bottoming out in the broad sandy stretch below the Adelphi mill. It has a point, it reaches sometimes when it runs fast but not high, the water will break backwards on itself over these rocky obstructions in the manner of surf on a shore. Birds with the appearance of cardinals, but as if dusted with brown flour will flash with a fluid movement over it into the sunlight and back among the trees. 
The year was heading into the fall when this happened so the full nature of its toll was not realized until the following spring. Then one could see in a wide path no green, and no life. By the end of that summer vines and seedlings crawled and came up into those spaces and man embarrassed by this low ranked initiative, took chainsaws to the broken and stripped pillars left behind and thought of things to build in their place. Here along a road I see on the days I take the bus there is a tree I have watched. Waiting for the day it would be left only a smooth cut stump with a small spillage of sawdust on the ground by it. But this spring, from its shorn off top, it put out a shoot and then another, looking for a matter of weeks like a telephone pole come to life. Gradually it settled into an appearance of a charmed palm tree. I do not think anyone will come to cut it down now. 
It looks like a tall angry dandelion, without even the bright yellow head, and cotton puff seedlings of a dandelion which endears it to children. This is long and lobed, irregular in all aspects and directions, its leaves, its stem, thick and leathery presenting spikes at every turn and surface. In a week it had put up three branching layers of such, arrayed against plant and animal alike, and towards the sun. All in attempt to fulfill its destiny to own that spot. Nature is its revealed aspects. what does this reveal? A certain aggression - even an attitude of aggression. This was still a corner of the human world. Physical plant/Groundskeeping
came through and uprooted it. I admit to missing it, I admired it even as I feared it and what it represented: chaotic clawing cyclical nature. Everything we construct, we construct against this. That is our nature. At the same time everything our nature is or pretends to is dependent on what came before. The materiality we extract from nature and fashion into our objects and energy. It is all dependent on the high state of material order things on this earth exist at. No dust and gas of interstellar space here. Our chaos is a chaos of systems. Here we have the immeasurable example of life in a perfection of being in an ornery weed.
