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The world does not make sense.

Scratch that – humanity does not make sense.

Nature blossoms then wilts, flows then ebbs, with some grace, free from the warped¬†rationality of “higher” consciousness.


Sunlight through leaves, walking the trail around the reservoir. There’s still a little water in California.

Watching yet another senseless horror on the news is simply senseless self-harm.


A strikingly tropical blossom among the tame greenery.

So I open to sensation. What is before me now. Purposefully close the door on sensationalism. Outrage with no target. What I cannot change.

I am not an ostrich.

I am not part of this gaggle, either.


Silly goose parade.

I am most likely one of the bunnies, twitching in the shrubs. Hoping it is safe. Hoping that all the other bunnies are safe tonight, too.


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