Wrapping up September
by Albo P Fossa ✍ September 26th, 2014
Our cottonwood’s leaves are yellowing and falling. Junior’s, too. The hummingbirds seem to have skeedaddled.
In our backyard, between Junior, the handle of a standing shovel, and a nearby evergreen, an orbweaver keeps trying to weave a web. Birds keep flying through the web on the way to a nearby bird-bath. “Dang!” (…we can imagine the spider saying.)
Spiders weave by letting a strand of silk fall, letting the wind-blown end catch a distant object, then proceeding to the middle and dropping more strands from there.
We call the spider “Son of Sam” even though it’s likely a female. We occasionally toss a pesky Miller moth into the web to watch her wrap it up, for fun. Insect cruelty, I suppose: the moth’s rights advocates will soon be after us. Moths are people, too. Right?
I’m typing these words one letter at a time, from memory. Honest. Well, you’ll have to take my word for it. But the latest version of the system on my tablet might just as well write this blog post. A three-word stream of consciousness appears atop my keyboard to help speed my typing. They might wrap up an entire sentence. Like this: “I think I can see it in my head and I don’t know what to do with the other side of the best thing about it.” Heavy.
Reminds me of the bullshit generator I wrote some time ago, to create memos for office use. Letting fall phrases like, “a transition from objective focus to internal productive management of means and goals.” Ain’t automation wonderful? So, next blog you see may well be dead words fallen from the fingers of a danged machine.
Meanwhile, in the backyard world, the danged cleanup begins. Dead leaf detritus: a reminder of falling temperatures. Already, long-sleeve shirts; soon: fall wraps.
- Junior Tree,
- Santa Fe,