Agog

We live in a paradise, aesthetically speaking for sure and almost certainly from the standpoint of options for recreational experience, as well.  There is no end of natural beauty to admire and many of the human constructions are worth looking at, too, while shaking your head in wonder at the endless ambition of our species to keep building upon building.

You don’t want to get too comfortable at the first lookout point because there’s still so much to see, the prime example being all of the mountain in the distance that’s probably the main reason all of this is here the way it is, as our ancestors in the area no doubt knew much better than any of us—even given the view we’re afforded beneath the power lines.

The most enjoyable downhills are typically followed by the worst (that is, best) uphills, but it’s worth it: how else will you find yet another descent, this one all the way to the water that’s another reason for this existence, as again, those here long before us attested to by that very existence itself.

The first swim of the year is an event to be celebrated, as it will, one hopes, portend many more immersions before the season runs out.  You know the drill: air and water essentially the same temperature, a cold beer consumed and simultaneously drained; that this joy is ephemeral makes is even more joyful, a paradise, evanescing, indeed.

A color that’s shut-your-mouth lovely in the western sky would be unspeakably horrific were it a bruise on your body, which just goes to show that context is everything.  If you were dreaming this life, you’d have to believe you were dreaming.  That you’re living it is an unimaginable dream of its own.

It’s no surprise that things splinter at the end; too many options and not enough names.  Each of us, though, retains some of all of us; this much is too much for anyone.