There is something wonderful about nature.
Especially when paired with some of the best jazz recordings ever.
The year that changed Jazz forever.
Giants walked in those days.
And a deer walks in our yard.
As I often state, we are blessed.
I’ve written about Heathcliff, the Pileated Woodpecker and how no one else heard him but me for quite a long time.
(one gets use to that in my line of work; hearing, and seeing, and feeling, and smelling, and tasting, and sensing what others are oblivious to. I take it as a gift. Helps me learn patience)
I didn’t know Heathcliff had a buddy.
Who favors Stevie Wonder.
Not that I blame him.
I favor Stevie Wonder, too.
My favoring started early and received a major boost my first time through college. A friend got Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life and Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road (both and others which I immortalize in a work-in-progress, The Shaman (it’s okay, i asked them if i could (do remember, i’m a fiction author))) and I was hooked.
All were impressive, but Wonder…
Not just the variety on the double-album (this was back in ’76. Nineteen-76) but the joy in his voice. If not joy, the pathos, the emotion, the soul, the energy.
No wonder Peter the Pileated Woodpecker loves him.
I’ve mentioned before that coyote are cautious creatures.
Case in point, Shy Jackson, a male juvenile out and about for a midday stroll.
Since videoing this, we’ve confirmed loss of habitat on the other side of the woods from us.
This saddens us.
Both our town and the town we abut increase their services and infrastructure in order to lure people forward. This increase in services drives up taxes and the price of homes. The increased tax rate and home price keeps people away from our town and the town we abut.
And also drives current inhabitants to less expensive towns and such.
Which means there’s a housing glut, which drives prices down but forces tax rates up because now police must patrol more vacant properties for migrants, indigents, squatters, and such.
The increase of migrants, indigents, squatters, and such drives insurance rates up.
Which causes construction to decrease. Often at some point during completion. Leaving massive house skeletons on empty, untended lots.
And we still have Old Ones coming into our yard.
We are glad.
Everybody has an end of day ceremony.
Ours is cappuccinos with a little something sweet (besides kisses and cuddles).
We also play a two-handed solitaire called “Russian Bank.”
No idea why it’s called “Russian Bank,” only that such is the name we were told and we’ve used ever since.
We play a unique form.
We work to help the other person win.
That way, regardless of the final outcome, we’re both winners, nobody loses.
At the same time, we improve each other’s game, each other’s skill level, by helping them see moves they missed.
Funny how cooperation achieves goals competition can’t even recognize.
Cooperation creates community. It must because cooperation requires more than a single player and requires all players benefit from the result.
It even allows disagreement. But not stasis. Whoever’s turn it is makes the final decision.
If the decision is faulty? Excellent. Something to learn from.
And if it’s not? Excellent! What we learned worked.
Susan’s rabbits are at it again.
Merrily munching away in our yard.
The rabbits are at the point where they stay out when Susan goes outside. She says hello to them.
Her perky little voice goes, “Hello, Bunnies.”
And they look up, turn an ear in her direction, go back to tender leaves and shoots.
I decided to relax with a Scotch and cigar.
Susan asked me to wait until the rabbits had finished their repast.
It’s always good to know one’s place in their household, don’t you think?