Scottish Highlands

Scottish Highlands

Monday, May 30, 2016

Making It Up As I Go Along #654

Not much struck me this week.  Doing regular walks again.  Went for at least a half hour, and more often closer to an hour, seven of the last nine days.  The pair of Canada Geese and their pair of goslings remain around the ponds.  Quite a tight knit family.  Saw my first Cardinal of the year… Though he was too quick for a photograph.  

Been summertime hot over the past week.  I turned the AC on this past weekend.  I find the problem with the air conditioning in my place is that the upstairs… Where the bedrooms are… Doesn’t get cold enough.  The basement remains so cool that I shut the vents down there.  The main floor is comfortable.  But as soon as I go to bed and close the door, things get stuffy.  First world problems.  The end result, I am turning up the AC for nighttime.  I don’t mind a warmish house in the day, but need the cool for sleep.

Sports wise, I’ve become very much a baseball person.  All total, I’d think I’ve watched about an hour of hockey playoffs… And when I’ve been watching, I’ve been bored.  Yes, if it was Montreal playing, my interest would be higher.  But the decline has been a few years in the making and I find I’m at my least interested.  Funny though, I still enjoy the hockey pools and figuring out what players I should have on my team and all that.  I just don’t want to actually watch the games.  And the Raptors playoff run meant virtually nothing to me.  But even when the Blue Jays struggle, I want to watch.  Baseball is where it’s at.  Though the Jays must stop doing these alumni ceremonies… Always hosted by Buck Martinez.  Always bring players out on to the field with 1970s rock music accompaniment.  Usually done without much point.  And how is it that Jose Cruz gets included in every one of these things?  He was a mid range player on the team for five or six years of mediocre baseball.  The team should try it’s best to forget about Jose Cruz… Not celebrate him.  Anyway… All that said, from a sports point of view, baseball is where it’s at.

The Rescued Fly
He’s probably already dead
The housefly I helped to escape
Mine is the swatterless home
Instead I corralled him
Locked in my spare bedroom
Window opened
Screen removed
Arms stretched 
With an iPad hand
I guide him like a sheepdog
Until he accidentally tastes freedom
While I quickly shut things up
In case he decides to u-turn.

Such painstaking care
To save a life
Though with selfish intentions
As I imagine him visiting 
While I attempt to slumber
His buzzing in the darkness
Keeping me dreamless 
Through the night

But how long does he last?
A housefly in the wild
When does he perch too near a frog?
Does he round the corner from my window
Only to flop into a spider’s lair?
Is his erratic flight, 
So perfected on human reflexes,
No match for those of a patrolling wren?

Or does he wander across the summer sky?
Buzzing happily without the puzzlement of windows
No longer the captive
Exploring a new world
As he catches an updraft of air
A delight unlike anything he would have found
In my home.

No
He’s probably already dead
Being quickly digested
In the belly of a Robin child
As he gains strength
Soon to leave 
His cozy nesty home.

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