This Ain't No Ordinary World

Electric Grass–the Physicists Were Right, Its all Interconnected

While running with Takoda this morning, I came across this patch of grass backlit by the light that was vibrating at an insanely high lightwave frequency that immediately took it out of the realm of the ordinary and stopped me in my tracks.  Thankfully, I had my iPhone with me.  I'm a photographer and I know all about backlight, but this grass seemed to be festooned with haloes with fuzzy edges that seemed positively electric.  The light it was refracting could not be contained.  Boundaries were blurred and instead of theoretically understanding the physics of interconnectedness, I saw it with my own eyes.  The thought crossed my mind that "this ain't no ordinary world." I was a former college writing instructor, so I had to wonder why I was thinking in double negatives.  Thankfully I was trained to teach after it was recognized that all voices should be respected and that people write more authentically when they do so using the grammar and phrasing they grew up with.  Native tongues should never be silenced, and in my experience diversity of expression adds to our understanding and appreciation of life.  But I also aim to speak authentically from my own experience and background and I was raised by an English mother.  I still can't pronounce words correctly, if you get my gist.  Try as hard as I might, every time I say "Dawn," the name of my mother's best friend from college, my mother corrects my pronunciation.  So I had to wonder, why did this thought come to me in a grammatical form I don't generally use?  I suspect it was because it was and wasn't ordinary. My subject was after all grass, and I have seen tons of grass being almost 60 years old, and even tons of backlit grass, but never backlight grass like this!  It was if an army of millipedes had suddenly come to life.  I'm glad it stopped me in my tracks (and so was Takoda because it was a pretty hot day–the kind that makes you feel all woozy and see double when you squint your eyes), because if I get to the point where I run past something like this and don't stop in amazement then frankly I don't deserve to take up space on this planet anymore.  

Weeds are Beautiful Too

We ran a mile and a half and then turned around to come back.  It was very hot and humid today, so Takoda wanted to walk in the shade for awhile, under some trees by the side of the road where many weeds were growing in a dense thicket.  I have not yet learned what this plant or weed is called, and I am actually not sure what category it belongs to, but it was pretty unusual.  It reminded me of a conservation I had with my lawn service guy recently.  When I asked him how he felt about weeding and what he'd take out, he said that weeds are any plants that someone doesn't want–it all depends on your perspective. What might be a nuisance to one might be something another would marvel at and want to cultivate.  It made me think that how we categorize wanted and unwanted lifeforms has to do with prejudice or preconceived notions.  If we turn off the judgmental centers of our brains, can we change our perceptions and learn to appreciate people that are different from us or lifeforms that we have been trained to think of as unwanted.  What if we just decided to look and marvel at everyone and everything and forget all the negativity and fear that has been drilled into us.  

This Field Will Be a Memory Soon

Just before we got to the car, Takoda wanted to stop running. He's a black dog and gets quite hot.  The day I decided I wanted a dog I was able to arrange to get him because he was black and not apricot colored and no one had wanted him.  To this day, I can't believe this was even a thing.  He is a gorgeous dog and has a beautiful personality. When the breeder told me he was available and why, I said, "I don't care what color he is.  Is he a good dog?  His temperament is what's important."  I lucked out.  He is in fact an angel.  All those people who turned him down because of his color lost out big time.  Takoda and I stood together looking at this field, both a little too hot and grateful for a moment of shade and a bit of breathing space.  Will this field still be here in a year or two, or will it have fallen prey to the demands of development in an area that is becoming increasingly popular? Will anyone decide to build a home and will this permeable fence become a wall or will they live according to the old maxim "love thy neighbor as thyself," which seems to be becoming as distant a memory as open fields, clean air and clean water.  We are all blessed that the earth lets us make her our home, and though I am a little suspect of the tendency to anthropomorphize, I am pretty sure mother nature thinks of us all as her children.

Takoda

Here's Takoda on a walk on in the mountains on a cooler day.  You can see just how lovable he is.  We all have this quality inside, each and every one of us, no matter what race or color.  Takoda means "Friend to All" in Sioux.  He lives up to his name and is my greatest teacher.